




































* 





» 





# 

























































































« 

































































THE. PINKERTON 


DETECTIVE! SERIES 



Of 


Notorious m 

Counterfeiters 


BY ROLAND RIVERS U.S.SECRET SERVICE 

CH ICACjO 

LAIRD 8c LEE 


PUBLISHERS 

The Pinkerton Detective Series. Entered at Chicago Post Office as Second-Class matter. 
Vot. 29. July, 1889. issued Monthly. By Subscription $3.00 per annum. 









ESTABLISHED 22 LTIELLIEAS. 
WHITNEY & HOLMES COMPANY, 

MANUFACTURERS OF 

HIGHEST GRADE CABINET ORGANS. 



GENERAL WESTERN AGENTS FOR 


lE^ZeizioltOTT, WlieelocL, Peas© 

All instruments sold by this Company are FULLY WARRANTED, AND SAT¬ 
ISFACTION GUARANTEED. Write for Catalogues and Prices. 

Address WHITNEY & HOLMES COMPANY, Quincy, Illinois. 




MUST USE 

POZZONTS 

MEDICATED 



POWDER. 


It imparts a brilliant 
transparency to the skin. 
Removes all pimples, 
freckles and discolora¬ 
tions, and makes the 
skin delicately soft and 
beautiful. It contains 
no lime, white lead or 
arsenic. In three shades: 
pink or flesh, white and 
brunette. r> 


FOR SALE BY AIL DRUGGISTS AND FANCY GOODS DEALERS EVERYWHERE. 


USE NO OTHER. BEWARE OF IMITATIONS. 































Cushman’s ienthol Inhaler 



And by continued use effects PERMANENT CURE. 


Each Inhaler contains Menthol enough to last ten to twelve months. Thousands 
speak its praise, none condemn it. Satisfaction guaranteed or money refunded. Write 
for beautiful wall chromo with circular and testimonials. 


PRICE 50C. SOLD BY DRUGGISTS GENERALLY. 

SENT BY MAIL ON RECEIPT OF PRICE. 

H. B. CUSHMAN, Drawer 70, Three Rivers, Mich. 



TONIC FOR TOE ww. 

CURE F0R DYgPEPSIN. 










THE CONIACKERS. Page 108. 




























“THE CONIACKERS” 


OR THE 


DRIGGS-GUYON GANG OF 


NOTORIOUS COUNTERFEITERS. 


BY / 

RONALD RIVERS, 

n 

U. S. SECRET SERVICE, 

Author of “ Blinky Morgan,” “ Escaped from Sing Sing,” “Virginia 
Conroy,”[etc., etc. 


“ Truth is Stranger than Fiction.” 


V, 


The Pinkerton Detective Series. Issued Monthly. By Subscription 3.00 per 
annum. Vol. 29, July, 1889. Entered at Chicago Postoffice as 
second-class matter. 


CHICAGO: 
LAIRD & LEE, PUBLISHERS 



THE LATEST WORKS 

OF THE 

MOST POPULAR AUTHORS. 

NANA.-.By Emile Zola 

LA TERRE..7.7.7.. By Emile Zola 

L’ASSOMMOIR. By Emile Zola 

NANA’S DAUGHTER; A Reply to “ Nana ".By Emile Zola 

THE DREAM.By Emile Zola 

POT BOUILLE (Piping Hot).1 .By Emile Rola 

THE LADIES’ PARADISE.By Emile Zola 

THROUGH MIGHTY WATERS SAVED, A Romance of the 

Johnstown Flood.By Duke Bailie 

THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE.By Mrs. Henry Wood 

THE MISSING RUBIES.By Sarah Doudney 

AN ACTOR’S WIFE. By George Moore 

BROKEN VOWS.By Mattie Dyer Britts 

THE BLUE VEIL.By F. Du Boisgobey 

TANGLED LIVES; or, United At Last.By“THERON” 

A GOLDEN HEART.By Bertha M. Clay 

MAY AND JUNE.By Edward R. Roe 

FROM THE BEATEN PATH.By Edward R. Roe 

G. A. R.; or How She Married His Double.By Edward R. Roe 

DR. CALDWELL; or, The Trail of the Serpent.By Edward R. Roe 

FETTERED BY FATE.By Emma S. Southworth 

JERRY BLEEKER; or, Is Marriage a Failure.By R. C. Givins 

THE MILLIONAIRE TRAMP.By R. C. Givins 

A WIFE’S PERIL.By Mrs. M. E. Holmes 

A WOMAN’S LOVE.By Mrs. M. E. Holmes 

HER FATAL SIN. ... .By Mrs. M. E. Holmes 

THE TRAGEDY OF REDMOUNT .By Mrs. M. E. Holmes 

THE WIFE’S SECRET.By Mrs. M. E. Holmes 

FOR A WOMAN’S SAKE.By Mrs. M. E. Holmes 

A HEARTLESS WOMAN.By Mrs. M. E. Holmes 

WHO WILL SAVE HER?.By Mrs. M. E. Holmes 

A DESPERATE WOMAN.By Mrs. M. E. Holme3 

ALLAN QUATERMAIN.By H. Rider Haggard 

SHE.By H. Rider Haggard 

KING SOLOMON’S MINES.By H. Rider Haggard 

MR. MEESON’S WILL.By H. Rider Haggard 

GOTHAM AND THE GOTHAMITES; or, The Gay Girls 

of New York.ByF. C. Valentine 

LADY VALWORTH’S DIAMONDS.By The “Duchess” 

MILDRED TREVANION.By The “Duchess” 

WEE FOLK OF NO MAN’S LAND; or, The Indian 

Maiden’s Faith.By May M. Wetmore 

MY QUEEN...By Mrs. Godfrey 

COWARD AND COQUETTE.By Mrs. Fairman Mann 

A DARK SECRET. ... .By Eva Catharine Clapp 

A HOUSE PARTY, AND THE BLUE CURTAINS.By“OuiDA” 

CHECKERED LIGHTS; or, The Sheriff's Daughter.By Fulton Gardner 

AGAINST FATE.By Mrs. M. L. Rayne 

BOUND BY A SPELL.By Hugh Conway 

MORGAN’S HORROR.By Geo. Manville Fenn 

CAUGHT IN A CORNER; or, A Terrible Adventure.By G. W. Waters 

AS IN A LOOKING GLASS. .By F. C. Philips 

THE UPLAND MYSTERY; A Tragedy of New England.By Mrs. M. R. P. Hatch 

A FROLICSOME GIRL.By John C. Wallis 

COURT ROYAL; or, Pawn Ticket No. 210 .By S. Baring-Gould 

FORCED APART; or Exiled By Fate.By Morris Redwing 

The above books are bound in handsome lithographed covers, in four colors. 
They are for sale on all railroad trains, at all book stores, or will be mailed, on 
receipt of price, by the publishers. 

LAIRD & LEE, Publishers, 

203*205 Jackson St. CHICAGO. 























































CONTENTS 


CHAPTER. PAGE. 

I.—Uncle Sam’s Boys 7 

II.—Mr. Andrew Quinn - - 13 

III. —Mr. Beaudry ----- 28 

IV. —Secret Service Afloat - - - 39 

V.—The Farmer Detectives - - -51 

VI.—Hall Misses His Round-up - - 66 

VII.—A Chip of the Old Block - - 74 

VIII.—“ Shadow” and Substance - - 91 

IX.—The Yankee Lawyer - - - no 

X.—Jim Guyon — at Last - - - 130 

XI.—A Counterfeiters’ Detective - - 142 

XII.—Mary Brown’s “ Dive ” - - 160 

XIII. —The Deadly Morphine - - - 181 

XIV. —Ready to Spring - - - - 199 

XV.—The Trap is Sprung - - - 213 


The Coniackers. 



Xhe Pinkerton Detective S er i es 


I N issuing these Detective Novels, the publishers have been careful to put out 
the best of the kind. Every book is a complete exposition of some real 
crime, which has been traced to the guilty person or conspirators by some 
eminent member of the secret service. These stories, having facts for a 
foundation, are written in a fascinating manner, free from all improbabilities or 
mythical romances, but tell the methods, finesse of detective work, hair-breadth 
escapes, the perilous situations, failures and triumphs, in readable and intensely 
interesting style. 

The books will be found to abound in thrilling situations, unexpected dis¬ 
closures and dramatic conceptions, and are copiously illustrated, making the 
series one of the most popular ever published. 

THE WHITECHAPEL MURDERS; or, An American Detec¬ 
tive in London.By A. F. Pinkerton 

JOSEPH PRICKETT, the Scotland Yard Detective.By Inspector Murray 

JIM CUMMINGS; or, The Great Adams Express Robbery.. By A. F. Pinkerton 

A LIFE FOR A LIFE; or, The Detective’s Triumph.By A. F. Pinkerton 

A WOMAN’S REVENGE; or, The Creole’s Crime.By Myron Pinkerton 

THE SEVERED HEAD; or, A Terrible Confession.By F. Du Boisgobey 

THE STOLEN WILL; or, The Rokewood Tragedy.By Myron Pinkerton 

FILE No. 1x4; a Sequel to File 113.By Emile Gaboriau 

FRED BENNETT, The Mormon Detective.. .By U. S. Marshal Bennett 

SAVED AT THE SCAFFOLD; or, Nic Brown, The Chicago 

Detective.By A. F. Pinkerton 

$5,000 REWARD; or, Cornered At Last.By A. F. Pinkerton 

LINK BY LINK; or, The Chain of Evidence.By Nathan D. Urner 

TRACKED TO DEATH; or, Eagle Gray, the Western Detec¬ 
tive .By Morris Redwing 

THE GREAT TRUNK TRAGEDY; or, Shadowed to Austra¬ 
lia. A full and complete history of the celebrated Max- 

well-Preller case.By Morris Redwing 

DETECTIVE AGAINST DETECTIVE; or, A Great Con¬ 
spiracy . .By Morris Redwing 

A CRIMINAL QUEEN; or, TheFatal Shot.By Ernest A. Young 

MARKET) FOR LIFE; or, The Gambler’s Fate.By A. F. Pinkerton 

DYKE DARREL, The Railroad Detective; or. The Crime of 

the Midnight Express.By A. F. Pinkerton 

A SHARP NIGHT’S WORK.By James Franklin Fitts 

THE DETECTIVE’S SECRET.By Nathan D. Urner 

MANACLE AND BRACELET.By Edmund C. Strong 

THE GREAT CRONIN MYSTERY; or, The Irish Patriot’s 

Fate.By A Chicago Detective 

MEXICAN BILL, The Cowboy Detective.By “Nevada Ned” 

A PRIVATE DETECTIVE: The Marvelous Career of a Noto¬ 
rious Criminal.By Lieut. John D. Shea, of the Chicago Police 

THE ROBBER KING: Thrilling Episode in a Career of 

Crime.By Detective Patrick Tyrell, of the Chicago Police 

THE ICEPOND MYSTERY, The Startling Story of a Terri- 

rible Crime.By Lieut. Joseph Kipley, of the Chicago Police 

THE RUNAWAY WIFE; or, Love and Vengeance. .By Captain Simon O’Don¬ 
nell, of the Chicago Police. 

A DARING HORSE THIEF..By Detective Pat’k Ryan, of the Chicago Police 
THE ONE-HANDED BURGLAR; or, The Tragic Fate of a 

Desperate Criminal.By Lieut. Edward Laughlin, of the Chicago Police 

THE MAIL ROBBER; or, The Clever Capture of a Dis¬ 
honest Postal Clerk.By James E. Stewart, Chief Inspector Post Office Dep’t 
THE STOLEN LACES; an Episode in the History of Chi¬ 
cago Crime.By Denis Simmons, Ex-Chief of the Chicago Police 


The above books are handsomely bound, in lithographed covers, and are 
fully illustrated. They are for sale on all railroads, at all bookstores, or will be 
mailed, on receipt of price, by the publishers. 


LAIRD & 

203-205 Jackson St. 


LEE, Publishers, 

CHICAGO, ILL. 































“THE CONIACKERS 


J J 


CHAPTER I. 

UNCLE SAM’S BOYS. 

Who knows them? 

A favored few, and, for Uncle Sam’s purposes, 
the fewer the better. 

What is their business? 

To protect the commonwealth against frauds on 
the revenue, the mails, and the currency. 

How do they work? 

So secretly, so surely, that the scoundrel who is 
engaged in an attempt to rob his Uncle Sam, 
seldom knows that he is being watched until he is 
“ collared” by one of Uncle Sam’s boys. 

In the spring of 1879 the receiving teller of the 
National Bank at Moberly, Mo., received a deposit 
of $350 from Patrick Carmody, proprietor of the 
Commercial Hotel of that town. A few minutes 
later, the cashier of the bank, needing currency to 
make up a large amount with which to discount a 
merchant’s note, stepped to the receiving teller’s 
desk and asked for twenty “ tens. ” They were 
counted out, and among them were two ten dollar 
notes from the deposit just received. 



8 


THE CONIACKERS 


On counting them over, the cashier paused and 
threw out these two, which happened to be on the 
Treasury Department, and a critical examination of 
them followed. 

“ Where did you get these * Webster heads,’ ” he 
asked, while a look of perplexity came into his 
face. 

“ From Carmody,” was the immediate answer, 
“ and I have two or three more of them here. Is 
there anything wrong about them? ” 

“ Rather! they are bogus, but the very best 
imitation I have ever seen! 

“ The deuce they are! ” exclaimed the teller, as 
he selected the two other ten dollar notes from the 
pile, and began to examine them. 

The most minute inspection failed to show any¬ 
thing “ crooked ” in the notes under examination, 
even to the experienced eyes of the teller. “ I can’t 
see anything the matter with them,” he said at last, 

“ the engraving is perfect, the color is right, and 
the paper is just the same as these others are 
printed on. You must have make a mistake, old 
man.” 

“ Not much,” was the answer, “just look at the 
milled vignetting around the word ‘Ten,’ and you 
will find the only flaw in an otherwise perfect con- 
terfeit.” 

After another critical inspection the teller said: 

“You are right, by gum! She is bogus to a 
certainty. Now, what in thunder are we to do 
with them? ” 


UNCLE SAM’S BOYS 


9 


“ Send for Carmody, and see where he got them,” 
was the sententious advice. 

A messenger was dispatched to the Commercial 
Hotel, and a few minutes afterward the proprietor 
entered the bank. 

“ Do you remember from whom you took these 
tens, Mr. Carmody? ” said the cashier. 

“ I do indeed,” replied Pat, “ for I got them last 
night while I was banking a little innocent game of 
‘poke.’ Why, is there anything wrong about 
them? ” 

“ Bogus, that’s all! ” 

“ The devil you say! ” exclaimed Carmody, than 
whom no better, squarer man ever breathed. 

“ It’s a fact,” continued the cashier, " and, now, 
the best thing we can do is to catch the gentleman 
who is ‘ shoving ’ this queer stuff. ” 

“I’m afraid we are too late,” said Carmody, 
shaking his head; “ he left on the early train for 
St. Louis this morning, and the Lord only knows 
where he is by this time.” 

The cashier glanced at the clock, and saw that 
the hands pointed to 2:30. The morning train had 
arrived in St. Louis hours before. 

“ What was his name? and what did he look like? ” 
was the next question. 

“ He registered as Andrew Quinn, and professed 
to be in the horse business,” replied Carmody. 
“ He is about six feet in height, and is very slimly 
built, with long, bony hands, big feet, and has a 
slight stoop in the shoulders. I should judge he 
weighs about 180 pounds.” 


IO 


THE CONIACKERS 


" What kind of a face has he? ” 

“ He has black eyes, a sallow skin, and bushy 
black hair.” 

“ Any beard or mustache? ” 

“ Not a hair on his face.” 

“ When did he come here? ” 

“ Yesterday afternoon. He said he had just 
shipped a car-load of horses to St. Louis, and 
would follow them this morning. He appeared to 
be a nice, sociable kind of a fellow, and had a big 
wad of bills in his inside pocket. He spent his 
money freely at the bar, and called up all hands 
several times. In fact, he said he wanted to get 
acquainted in Moberly because his business would 
bring him here often.” 

“ Well,” said the cashier, “ there is no doubt in 
my mind that he is ‘shoving the queer.’ I shall 
have to detain these four notes until their identity 
can be settled by one of the Treasury officers. 
Meantime, Mr. Carmody, it would be as well to 
say nothing about this matter, for you never know 
what friends a man of that kind has, nor how a 
warning can be conveyed to him. Did he say 
when he was coming back?” 

" Yes. He said he^would be in Moberly again 
on Tuesday next. Hank Brown has a pair of 
horses he is after, and, though Hank didn’t want to 
sell, this man Quinn thinks he can get them.” 

“ Very well,” returned the cashier, “ if, as I sus¬ 
pect, these notes are bad, we will catch him when 
he returns, provided no hint of this thing gets out.” 

“ I won’t say anything to warn him or his pals,” 


UNCLE SAM’S BOYS 


11 

said Carmody; “ I’m hot enough at being beaten 
out of my money by the scamp.” 

A short time afterward, secret service officer 
Wallace Hall, who was at the time in Chicago, 
received the following dispatch marked “ Rush. ” 

“Moberly, May 12. 

“ To Capt. Wallace W. Hall , 

“Sub Treasury Dept., 

“ Chicago. 

“A new and dangerous counterfeit Treasury ten 
has made its appearance at this point. Deceives 
even experienced bankers. Full description of 
shover. Have four of the notes. Wire instruc¬ 
tions. 

“ Wm. Crawford, 

“ Banker.” 

Late in the afternoon, Cashier Crawford received 
the following: 

Chicago, May 12. 

“ To Wm. Crawford , 

" Banker , 

“ Moberly , Mo. 

“ Keep matter secret as far as possible. Leave on 
C. & A. train at eight o’clock. Reach Moberly at 
one to-morrow. 

“ W. W. H.” 

The next afternoon, a quiet-looking, well dressed 
gentleman jumped off the train at Moberly, and, 
after handing his valise to the porter, climbed into 
the Commercial Hotel ’bus. 

On his arrival at the hotel, he registered as 


12 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ W. W. Howard,” and was assigned to room 28, 
on the parlor floor. 

After he had indulged in a wash and a clean 
shirt, he went to the dining-room. 

“ Sit down with us,” suggested the gentlemanly 
host, who had received Mr. Howard at the desk a 
few minutes before. 

“ Mr. Howard, of Chicago, Mrs. Carmody,” he 
went on, introducing the stranger to a particularly 
handsome blonde lady, who smiled sweetly in 
acknowledgment of the polite bow Mr. Howard 
made. 

The meal proceeded, with plenty of entertaining 
chatter to enliven it, and in course of conversation 
Howard said: 

“ I have a draft I want to get cashed. Where is 
your bank, Mr. Carmody? ” 

Carmody gave the necessary information, and 
a<Jded*: 

" You will need some one to identify you. Are 
you acquainted in Moberly at all?” 

“ I only know one man here,” replied Howard, 
“ but he is a very important man to know just at 
the present juncture : Mr. Crawford, the cashier.” 

“ Oh, then, you are all right,” responded Car¬ 
mody, with a laugh, " any man who stands in with 
the cashier is as solid as they make ’em. ” 

After dinner, “ Mr. Howard ” called on the 
banker, and, after revealing his true identity, was 
soon put in possession of all the facts at Crawford’s 
command. 


MR ANDREW QUINN 


13 


“ Do you think you will get them? ” asked the 
banker. _ 

“ If I don’t, it won’t be for want of trying,” was 
the quiet but determined answer. 

That evening a full description of Mr. Quinn was 
telegraphed to headquarters, and thence spread all 
over the country, as of a man who needed the 
closest kind of watching. 

Several times the officer took those four ten dol¬ 
lar notes out of his pocket-book for the purpose 
of admiring them. 

“ Confound it! ” he said to himself, “ they beat 
anything ever engraved outside the department. 
If the fellow has been wise he ought to have 
$100,000 in this stuff* afloat with a six months’ 
start.” 


CHAPTER II. 

MR. ANDREW QUINN. 

After an interview with Carmody, in which he 
tvas told about Quinn’s admiration for Hank 
Brown’s team, the secret serviceman strolled leis¬ 
urely up the street to Brown’s place. 

That worthy individual was sitting at the door of 
his barn smoking an old corn-cob pipe, from which 
he seemed to draw much satisfaction and smoke. 

“Howdy?” was the brief salutation of Mr. 
Hall. 

“ Day day,” responded Hank, lazily, without 
even taking the pipe out of his mouth. 



14 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ I hear you have a fine span of bays you want 
to sell,” pursued the detective. 

“ Then, you heerd lies,” said Hank,as he carefully 
gauged his distance, and then almost drowned a 
wretched fly as it crawled up the barn door ; “ I 
have a pair o’ bays, but I ain’t hot to sell ’em.” 

“ You might if you were offered enough money,” 
suggested the detective. 

“ Well, I might and I mightn’t,” was the calm 
response, deliberately drawn between puffs from 
the corn-cob. 

“ What figure do you hold them at? ” was the 
next question. 

“ Hain’t set no price on ’em,” was the reply, as 
he sized up his man to see whether he looked like 
a “ sure ’nuff ” buyer, or was only actuated by 
curiosity. 

The inspection seemed to be satisfactory, for, 
knocking the ashes from his pipe, he continued: 

“ There was a man here from St. Louis last 
Friday, ’at offered me $325 for ’em.” 

“ What did you say? ” 

“ Told him to go plumb to h—. ” 

“ Let’s have a look at the beasts. I am willing to 
go better than $325 if they suit me.” 

“ So is the other feller. He’s cornin’ back Tues¬ 
day to see if we can’t fix up a trade ; so I ain’t open 
fer nuthin’ but offers at present. I can’t sell with¬ 
out givin’ him a chance to kinder raise the ante,” 
said Hank, as he slowly and lazily refilled his pipe 
from a bag of Durham. After a little further per¬ 
suasion he showed the horses to his supposed cus- 


MR. ANDREW QUINN 


15 


tomer, and a pair of beauties they certainly were, 
just the very “ critters,” Hall declared, that he was 
on the lookout for. 

“ They are worth every penny of $400,” he said; 
“ and I like them well enough to wait till Tuesday 
for your man to return, and then see if I can’t buy 
them. ” 

“ All right," replied Hank; “ I don’t give a durn 
whether I sell ’em or not. Only I passed my say 
so that Quinn was to have the first chance at ’em, 
and my word goes." 

Tuesday came, and with it tall, lanky Mr. Quinn. 
When he arrived at Hank’s barn he found the other 
would-be customer waiting for him. Hall’s offer 
of $400 for the horses was raised by the stranger, 
who finally bought them for $430 

“ Well, I can’t raise that bid, and I guess, if I 
did, it wouldn’t do any good, for you seem bound 
to get ’em," said the detective. 

“ That’s what," replied Quinn, as he counted out 
the required amount in crisp, new ten dollar notes. 

“ They ain’t no hard feelin’s, I hope," he con¬ 
tinued; “ and I guess Brown here’ll set ’em up; eh, 
Brown? " 

“ Seein’ it’s you,’ replied Hank, ‘ don’t mind ef 
I do." So together they walked to the Commercial 
bar, and proceeded to “ irrigate the alimentary 
canal." 

“ When do you want to take ’em ? " asked Hank, 
after he had swallowed his whisky. 

“ Right away, ’’ answered Quinn; “I’m goin’to 


16 


THE CONIACKERS 


St. Louis this afternoon, where I have a customer 
waitin’ for the horses.” 

“OK,” replied Hank, “ you can have ’em any 
time, seein’s they’re yourn’.” 

Within a couple of hours the horses were aboard 
the train, and Hank had shaken hands with the 
stranger. As he was leaving the depot, a hand 
was laid lightly on his shoulder, and, turning, he 
was somewhat surprised to see the secret service 
man at his elbows. 

“ My name is Hall,” he said, “ not Howard, and 
I am a Treasury agent. The fellow you have sold 
your cattle to is a counterfeiter, and every dollar 
he gave you is bogus, ” 

“ Come off,” said Hank, with a frightened expres¬ 
sion in his eyes. “ Your act is bad.” 

“ Nothing of the kind,” continued Hall. “ I’m 
giving it to you straight. Now, I want those notes, 
every one of them.” 

“ This is a bunko game, and I’m too old a hen to 
be deceived by a chicken,” grinned Hank, who 
believed himself smart enough not to be taken in 
by a “ con.” man. 

For answer the detective quickly unbuttoned his 
vest and displayed a Treasury agent’s star fastened 
to his suspenders. 

That settled the matter, and Hank reluctantly 
handed over the counterfeit money, as he asked 

“ Why the h-don’t you arrest the coniacker? 

You hain’t agoin’ to let him git away with my crit¬ 
ters are you? ” 

“ That’s just what I am going to do. But don’t 


MR. ANDREW QUINN 


1 7 

fret. You will get your horses or their value all 
right. The government wants this fellow and his 
pals, and the pals can only be caught by following 
him. You will be made whole for your horses; so 
keep your mouth shut.” 

Hank promised to be circumspect, and, as the 
train began to move at this moment, the Treasury 
agent had barely time enough to swing himself 
onto the rear platform of the last coach. 

“ Hello! ” said Quinn. “ You goin’to St. Louis, 
too?” 

“ Yes; that’s where I live when I’m home.” 

“ Well, set down and be comfortable,” said the 
coniacker; “you might as well enjoy life while you 
can.” 

The detective seated himself beside the man he 
was shadowing, and a conversation on indifferent 
topics ensued. Flail had a flask of excellent liquor 
with him, and the pair drank together several times. 
This loosened Quinn’s tongue, and, after feeling his 
way cautiously for a little while and receiving every 
encouragement, he said: 

“ Strikes me there’s too much money in the 
Treasury. ” 

“ That’s what. I’d just like to get my hands on 
a good big slice of the boodle — only once.” 

“ Me, too,” assented Quinn. “ I’d take my stake 
and git. I don’t think it’s any harm to rob a rob¬ 
ber, and that is just what this gov’ment is — just a 
robber.” 

“You just put me onto some safe scheme for 

The Coniackers 2 


i8 


THE CONIACKERS 


getting ahead of Uncle Sam, and see how quick I’ll 
get there, ” answered the detective, feeling sure that 
his companion was about to " give himself away. ” 
Quinn remained silent for several minutes, during 
which time he studied Hall’s face intently. The 
latter bore the scrutiny well, and looked as inno¬ 
cent of any ulterior motive as a new-born calf. 

“ I reckon I can trust you,” said Quinn, at length; 
“ you look like an honest man, and one that 
wouldn’t get any feller into trouble.” 

“ Well, you bet I wouldn’t,” said Hall, with his 
most impressive manner; “ I never turned a mean 
trick in my life, and I never will. ” 

Again Quinn paused a little while to study his 
companion’s face. Then he said: 

“ Did you ever see any green goods?” 

“ Never did. I know what you mean, though, 
and I’d like to get hold of a first-class article. Trav¬ 
eling about the country as I do, I’d get rid of it 
without any trouble. ” 

“ What line are you in? ” 

“ Been in almost everything. I have a nice little 
property in St. Louis which brings me in about 
$noa month, and I travel for a patent medicine 
house. ” 

“ Well, I have a friend who can get you some 
tens that have been passed everywhere — banks, 
Postoffice and all, and have never been questioned. 
They are great stuff.” 

“ Say, can you get me some of them? ” 

“ I might get my friend to let you have them, if 
he finds you are all square.” 


MR. ANDREW QUINN 


19 


“ Square? Why, I’ve traveled for Doc McLean 
for three years. You can come up to the store and 
see me, or ask the doctor about me, if you want.” 

“ I reckon you’re all right,” said the coniacker, 
after another pause, “ the next time we stop, you 
come forward with me to the car where my team 
is, and I’ll show you something.” 

Accordingly, at the next stoppage the detective 
accompanied Mr. Quinn to the box car, and, as soon 
as the train started out again, the latter pulled out 
a roll of bills, and, handing them to Hall, said: 

“ See if you can pick out the ‘ queer ’ ones 
among these.” 

Hall took the money, and it was a matter of no 
little difficulty, even for a man of his vast experience, 
to distinguish the genuine from the bogus without 
a most minute examination. He was too wily, 
however, to let the coniacker see that he could tell 
the difference; so, selecting three genuine bills and 
two of the counterfeits, he said: 

“ ’Pears to me ther£ isn’t a great sight of differ¬ 
ence anyhow, but I guess these are the crooked 
ones.” 

Quinn smiled, as he replied: 

“You’re wrong just the same, for only two of 
those are queer, while the others are genuine Un¬ 
cle Sam’s papers. I tell you that is the greatest 
stuff ever printed! Say — I’ve been running’em 
off for more than a year—loading National banks 
with ’em and everything, and they haven’t dropped 
to ’em yet. ” 

“Well, I swan!” exclaimed the innocent Cap- 


20 


THE CONIACKERS 


tain Hall; “ I’ve got to get some of those papers as 
sure as I live. How much can I get them for? ” 

“ Thirty-three cents on the dollar.” 

“ Say, doesn’t that strike you as kind o’ high? ” 

“ Not at all—a tenner only costs you $ 3 - 33 > and 
you make $6.66 the minute you pass it. Of course 
there is some cheaper goods in the market, but 
look at the risk in handling them. Now with 
these you can stand right up at the window in the 
St. Louis Postoffice and buy stamps.” 

“ If you will do that, and the stuff goe*s, I’ll buy 
$6,000 worth of them.” 

“ I’ll go you. Where will you meet me at two 
o’clock to-morrow?” 

“ I’ll be at Bessehl’s beer hall from two till 
three o’clock.” 

“ All right. I’ll be on hand.” 

“ You bet you will, and so will I,” remarked the 
Treasury agent under his breath. 

As agreed upon, the detective met his coniack- 
ing acquaintance the following day. He did not 
even take the trouble to shadow him the night of 
their arrival in St. Louis, being certain that $2,000 
was plenty of bait to insure the counterfeiter’s 
keeping his engagement. 

He arrived at Bessehl’s about three minutes after 
two o’clock, and found the obliging Mr. Quinn al¬ 
ready there. 

“ So, you have turned up, I see,” said that wor¬ 
thy, by way of salutation. 

“ Bet your life I have,” returned Hall. “ I’m 


MR. ANDREW QUINN 


21 


not throwing away any chances to make a big 
stake with scarcely any risk.” 

“ All right,” said Quinn, “ I guess we’d better 
get down to business. Now I’ll tell you what I’m 
going to do. I’ll give you the whole of my pile 
excepting one of the queer tens. Then we’ll go 
to the Postoffice and you will see me buy ten 
dollars’ worth of stamps with the short green ten. 
Is that satisfactory?” 

“ Quite,” said Hall, smiling to himself at this 
shrewd move on the part of the coniacker. His 
object was to get the spurious money into the 
other man’s possession, so that, if by any chance 
they should be arrested, the stuff would not be 
found in his pockets, and he could defend himself 
by saying that Hall had given him what he be¬ 
lieved to be a genuine bill, and told him to buy 
stamps with it. 

So, together they walked along Olive street to 
the Postoffice, and Hall stood at the counterfeiter’s 
elbow as the money was passed in and the stamps 
out, in exchange for the bogus bill. 

Quinn was not aware of it, but within five min¬ 
utes that bill had been decorated by having the 
word COUNTERFEIT cut clear through it. 

“ Are you satisfied?”asked Quinn, as they walked 
down the high steps. 

“ Perfectly,” answered Hall. “ He took it with¬ 
out a kick. Now, when do I get my stuff? ” 

“ How much do you want? 

“ $2,000 worth—$6,000 in the green goods.” 

“ I can’t get you that much at present; it will 


22 


THE CONIACKERS 


have to be printed. I reckon the best thing will 
be for you to see my friend, and he will tell you 
how much he has on hand.” 

“ When can I see him? It must besoon, because 
I will have to take to the road again at once,” said 
the detective, who had the best of reasons for 
wishing to get the trick turned as quickly as 
possible. 

“ I can bring him to your house to-night if you 
like,” answered Quinn. “ Where do you live?” 

“At 1531 Washington avenue, but that would 
not be a good place to meet. It is a boarding¬ 
house, and there are too many people about, par¬ 
ticularly one fellow whom I suspect of being a 
Pinkerton operative.” 

“ Then, we don’t want to go there — that’s cer¬ 
tain. Well, where can we meet? ” 

“ Suppose I go to your place,” suggested Hall. 

“ That would hardly do, either. The fact is, we 
live out of town, my partner and I, and we don’t 
care to have any visitors. No — it must be 
arranged for some place in town.” 

“ Very well, then, what do you say to taking a 
room at the Laclede Hotel? ” 

“ That’s the scheme. We can transact our busi¬ 
ness there without any danger of interruption.” 

“ Then, if that suits you, I will go there now and 
register, and you can call at whatever hour you 
like. How would nine o’clock to-night do? ” 

“ I reckon that will be all right. But there’s one 
thing, my partner’s mighty skeery about handling 
the goods, and he may not agree to meet you there. 


MR. ANDREW QUINN 


23 


If he kicks, we will send a messenger to you with 
a note, telling you when and where to meet us.” 

This arrangement having been made, they sep¬ 
arated. As Quinn went away, he turned around 
suddenly several times to see whether he was being 
watched or followed. The detective, however, 
was standing at “ Pa ” Bessehl’s door, apparently 
lost in thought. At the same time he was watch¬ 
ing Mr. Quinn out of the corner of his eye, and 
saw him walk to Chestnut street, cross the road, 
come down on the other side, and enter the Court 
House. 

Captain Hall knew what this meant, and in an 
instant he commenced to walk rapidly to Chestnut 
street, and thence across to Fourth street. As he 
expected, just as he arrived at the corner, Mr. 
Quinn and a peculiar-looking old man came down 
the rear steps of the Court House, engaged in an 
apparently very earnest conversation. 

The old man appeared to be fully seventy years 
of age. His form was bent, and his long white hair 
fluttered in the warm Southern wind. He was 
dressed in a suit of jeans, and on his head was an 
old grey sombrero. He walked firmly, however, 
and over his arm hung the crook of a heavy stick. 
He had on top boots, into which his pants were 
carelessly tucked. 

“ Aha!” said the detective to himself; “ so this is 
the pal is it? I thought my guess was a correct 
one. The old man is Nelse Driggs, the notorious 
‘handler,” and the other is no less a personage 
than Jim Guyon, engraver, forger, electrotyper, and 


24 


THE CONIACKERS 


utterer of false coin. By Jove! Hall, old man, you 
are in big luck. ” 

You may be sure that he did not let these two 
beauties out of his sight. He followed them along 
Chestnut street to Twelfth, and thence to the 
Union Depot. Here he saw them buy their 
tickets, and he was wondering how he would be 
able to get on the train with them without risk of 
discovery. 

“ I wish I had Billy with me,” he thought, " the 
young rat would pipe them off as slick as a whistle. 
We would be able to take them with the rest of 
their gang, and probably get the complete outfit 
of press, plates, paper and ‘queer.’” 

At this moment, as the two men began to walk 
toward him, he stepped into the telegraph office 
to avoid them and unexpectedly ran against an 
old friend, Tom Chatterton, a “ C. B. & Q.” con¬ 
ductor. 

“Hello, Tom,” he exclaimed, grasping Chatter- 
ton’s hand, “ where did you spring from? ” 

“ I’ve just got in off my run,” said Tom, “ and 
I was going home when you bumped the wind out 
of me.” 

“ By the gods! ” exclaimed Hall, “ you are the 
very man I want.” 

“ Not for anything serious, I hope,” put in Chat¬ 
terton, laughing.” 

“ Well, it is, and mighty serious too,” declared 
the Treasury agent, joining in the laugh; “ I want 
to make a trade with you.” 

“ What? ” asked Tom, in astonishment. 


MR. ANDREW QUINN 


25 


“ I mean just what I say,” resumed the captain, 
“ I want to swap clothes with you, hat and all.” 

“ What’s in the wind now?” asked Chatterton. 

“ I’m shadowing a pair of smooth people, and I 
have to do something to disguise myself so that 
they won’t recognize me. Hurry up! Get off your 
coat and vest, and I’ll let you have them again in a 
few hours.” 

“ Well, you’re a chilly duck, too,” said Tom, but 
nevertheless doing as he had been told. In a few 
minutes the transfer had been made, the detective 
meanwhile keeping an eye on the coniackers, who 
continued to walk up and down on the platform 
outside.” 

“ Who are your parties?” asked Tom as the 
detective was buttoning up the official blue vest. 

“ I can’t give that up yet, but if I land them in 
the city jail to-night I’ll tell you all about them. 
They have been fooling with Uncle Sam, and, if I 
convict them, they are good for twenty years 
apiece. ” 

“ W-h-e-e-w!” whistled the conductor, “ I’d hate 
to stand in their boots and have you after me — 
that’s all.” 

“ Do I look like a railroad man now ? ” asked 
the detective, blushing at the implied compliment, 
as he perched the peaked cap rakishly on one side. 

“ You’ll do,” said Tom, admiringly. “ It’s lucky 
that we’re just of a size. The togs fit you like the 
skin on a cucumber.” 

“ I won’t do yet,” declared the detective, “ they 
will know my face unless I queer it.” 


2 6 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ I don’t see how you are going to do that,” said 
Tom. 

“ Then, I’ll show you,’’ answered Hall. 

He then took out his handkerchief, an extra 
large white one, and folded it cornerwise. He next 
took his pocket-knife and deliberately cut his finger, 
letting the blood fall on the clean white hand¬ 
kerchief. When he thought there was sufficient 
to look natural, he artistically bound the bloody 
handkerchief over his left eye and around his 
head, covering the eye, most of his forehead, and 
all one side of his face. When this maneuver had 
been completed, he turned to the astonished con¬ 
ductor, and said : 

“ I don’t think even you would know me now.” 

“ Indeed I wouldn’t. I never saw such a complete 
change in a man’s appearance. You look like a 
railroader who has been in a smash-up.” 

Well satisfied with the result of his scheme, and 
having bound up the cut hand, the detective went 
out onto the platform, and walked slowly past the 
two coniackers, who by this time were seated on a 
trainboy’s box at the other end of the depot. Hall 
assumed a limp, and walked like a man who had 
been pretty badly shaken up. 

As he passed them for the second time, Guyon, 
whom we already know as Quinn, looked up and 
said : 

“ Hello, partner, been in a pitch-in ? ” 

“ A little one for a cent,” replied Hall, in an 
assumed voice, “ but good and plenty to suit 
me. I’ve got seven stitches in my forehead this 


MR. ANDREW QUINN 


27 


minute, and I’ll be a marked man as long as I 
live. ” 

“That’s too blamed bad,” said Guyon, “ which 
way are you travelling ? ” 

“ I’m going out to my sister’s place on the 
‘ O. ’, ” said Hall, seating himself on the box be¬ 
tween the two counterfeiters. 

“ When did it happen ? ” asked Driggs. 

“ About two hours ago. A shunting engine run 
into us, and I was thrown head first against the 
wood-box. I tell you my head aches fit to split.” 

A few minutes later the train pulled into the 
depot, and the coniackers assisted the supposedly 
wounded man into the car. He sat with them, 
and let them do all the talking until they reached 
Dameron, a little town about thirty miles above St. 
Louis, on the river. Here they got off after ex¬ 
pressing the hope that the “ conductor ” would 
soon be all right again. 

They were no sooner out of the car than that poor 
wounded man darted to the other door, tearing off 
the bloody bandage as he ran; and, as the coni¬ 
ackers, arm in arm, walked down a road leading to 
the river, the detective vaulted a fence and ran 
swiftly after them, keeping inside a ten-acre pasture 
lot. 

The men were unsuspicious, and did not look 
around but once to see whether they were followed 
or not, so Hall had no difficulty in shadowing them 
to the river bank. They went at once down the 
hill to the water’s edge, and drew out a boat which 
had been concealed under a clump of bushes. Into 


28 


THE CONIACKERS 


this they got, and, Guyon taking the oars, they were 
soon speeding over the Mississippi toward Turner’s 
island, which lies in the middle of the stream. 

Hall, who had eyes like a hawk, stood on the 
bank and watched them until they reached the 
Island. They did not land, but, pulling to the 
south, rounded the point, and disappeared on the 
other side. 

“ I have you now, my fine lads,” said Hall, to 
himself; “ your plant is on that island as sure as a 
gun’s iron.” 

He waited about an hour, and, as the boat did 
not reappear, was about to return to the depot to 
catch the next train back to St. Louis, when a little 
curl of blue smoke, rising from nearly the center of 
the island, attracted his attention, and confirmed his 
belief that he had treed his coons, and hunted the 
coniackers to their hole. 


CHAPTER III. 

“ MR. BEAUDRY.” 

Captain HALLreturned to St. Louis from Turner’s 
Island, for so the coniackers’ retreat was named, 
by the next train. Before he did so, however, he 
sent a cipher dispatch to Chicago asking for assist¬ 
ance, and informing his chief that he had succeeded 
in tracing his men. 

Promptly at nine o’clock that night an old country¬ 
man stepped up to the desk at the Laclede Hotel, 
and asked if W. W. Howard were stopping there. 




MR. BEAUDRY 


29 


“ He is,” answered the clerk; “ arrived this after¬ 
noon. Room 254.” 

“ All right,” replied the old granger; “ I’ll go 
right up. He’s expectin’ me.” 

In answer to a knock on his door, a few minutes 
later, Captain Hall called: “ Come in,” and the old 
man he had shadowed to Lincoln County, entered. 

“ Good evening,” said the detective. 

“ Good evenin’,” answered the old man, who 
was twisting his gray sombrero nervously, not 
knowing exactly how to open the conversation. 

“ You are a friend of Mr. Quinn’s?” inquired the 
officer. 

“ Yes,” was the reply. “Andy didn’t feel right 
peart to-night, so he didn’t come down.” 

“ I’m sorry to hear that, for Andy’s a right good 
fellow,” said Hall, sympathetically. 

The granger hummed and hawed, and seemed 
very uncomfortable, while Hall was making a quiet 
mental study of this innocent-looking old gentle¬ 
man, who appeared to already have one foot in the 
grave. Finally the old man said: “ My name’s 
Beaudry—John Beaudry, though some calls me 
Hill. I guess Hill’s easier to remember than Beau¬ 
dry, which is French.” 

“ Well, I’m glad to see you, Mr. Beaudry, or 
any friend of Mr. Quinn’s.” 

“ Much obliged,” returned Beaudry, alias Hill, 
alias Driggs. “ Andy was a-sayin’ somethin’ about 
you either hevin’ or wantin’ some green goods, or 
somethin’ — I don’t rightly understand what.” 


30 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ I was saying to Quinn that I’d like to get some 
of them. ” 

“ How’re you fixed?” asked the old man, after 
sitting silently thinking for some time. 

“ Solid. If I go into this business I want to go 
in big, and do it all suddenly. Then I want to go 
to Europe on a pleasure trip.” 

“ Did you ever handle any of it before? ” 

“ No; I’ve been straight as a string for years: 
Working for Doc McLean most of the time, selling 
pills and ague cure. I have a big connection on 
the road, and, with stuff like I saw this morning, I 
can shove it out as easy as rolling off a log.” 

“ How much do you reckon you’d want?” 

“ Six hundred like those I’ve seen will do me. I 
can have a pretty nice jaunt out of that, and see 
my relations across the water.” 

“ Do you know what ’ud become of the man that 
tried to turn me up?” This question was put 
abruptly by the old desperado, whose manner 
changed completely for the moment, and he seemed 
to grow twenty years younger as he half hissed the 
inquiry into Hall’s ear. 

“ I don’t know,” replied Hall calmly; “ and I 
don’t care, seeing I have no such notion.” 

“I’d kill him. as sure as G--!”said Beaudry, 

earnestly, and looking as if he meant every syllable 
of it. 

“Well, that don’t interest me a little bit,” 
continued Hall; “what I want to know is, can I 
get it?” 

“ I guess Quinn was right,” said the old man, 


MR. BEAUDRY 


31 


after scanning Hall’s face carefully; “ I believe 
you’re an honest man.” 

“ You can bet your pile on that,” said Hall, whose 
meaning, though, was rather different from Beau¬ 
dry’s. 

“ How soon can you get your boodle ready? ” 
was the counterfeiter’s next question. 

“ To-morrow, if that suits you.” 

“ That’s a little too quick. The day after, at 
nine o’clock in the morning, will be better.” 

“ Where am I to meet you, here ?” 

“Not by a d-d sight! When a man is 

deliverin’ that kind of stuff he has to be mighty 
sly. Now, mind you, I think you are all right, or 
I wouldn’t talk to you ; but all the same I’m not 
goin’ to walk into anythin’ that might be a dead¬ 
fall.” 

“ You are all right in the main, Beaudry, only 
there is nothing to suspect about me. Anyway, 
I’m agreeable to meet you anywhere you may say.” 

“ Do you know Pearl’s saloon ? ” 

"Yes, the toughest joint in St. Louis.” 

“ Ever been there ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ I know where it is, though.” 

“ Well, that’s where I’ll meet you at nine o’clock 
in the mornin’, day after to-morrow.” 

The detective eyed his visitor narrowly after this 
arrangement had been proposed. John Pearl’s 
saloon was, as Hall had said, the toughest hole in 
St. Louis, which at that period was not notorious 
for rum shops run on the Sunday-school principle. 



32 


THE CONIACKERS 


Pearl’s place was a “ hang out ” for burglars, high¬ 
waymen, and desperate characters from all parts of 
the country. In addition to these, prostitutes and 
female thieves of the lowest type made the place 
a headquarters, and more than one murder had 
been committed there. Heaven only knows how 
many more had been planned in this vile resort. 

One may wonder how such a place could obtain 
a license and keep open. The fact is, that John 
Pearl controlled the votes of the tough element, 
and through this influence he became king of the 
primaries, not only in his own ward, but when the 
occasion demanded it, his thugs invaded the 
respectable parts of the city and controlled the 
delegates to party conventions in his interests and 
those of his backers — the politicians. In those 
days John Pearl was a power in St. Louis, and 
nothing that occurred in his house was ever too 
closely inquired into by a police force, which he 
practically owned, from the chief down to the dem¬ 
ocratic negro patrolman. 

It is no wonder, then, that the detective paused 
before agreeing to the counterfeiter’s proposition. 

“ I think,’* he-said, at length, “ I think, that if you 
have reason to be cautious and protect yourself, so 
have I. I don’t much like the idea of taking $2,000 
into that joint.” 

“ Oh! there’s honor amongst — certain classes,” 
replied Beaudry. “ You have no reason to be 
scared. I’ll purtect you.” 

Doubtless it was very kind of Mr. Beaudry, alias 
Hill, alias Driggs, to promise his august protection; 


33 


MR. BEAUDRY 

but to Captain Hall, who knew his business right 
down to the ground, the whole scheme looked 
decidedly " fishy.” He was a man of action, how¬ 
ever, and, as quick as a flash, his plan was formed. 
Turning to the old man, who was eagerly watching 
him, he said: 

“ I’ll be on hand. But, mind you, if there is any 
hanky-panky about it, I am about as quick on the 
shoot as any man you know.” 

This proved satisfactory, and shortly afterward 
Mr. Beaudry took his departure, declaring that he 
would not do anything “ crooked ” for the world 
and all that is therein. 

Hall remained in his room for fully an hour after 
the departure of his guest, busily thinking out the 
details of the plan he had already conceived. 

He conjectured that old Driggs was probably in 
earnest about selling him the counterfeit bills. It 
was evident that they were being printed in large 
quantities, judging from what Guyon (“ Quinn ”) 
had said. At the same time he wanted the plates 
and plant from which the stuff was printed; there¬ 
fore the capture of the old man and the money 
were not the main points in the case. Hence he 
concluded to be at Pearl’s place, as agreed on, and 
to give the old fellow the “ collar ” there, provided 
Guyon did not come into town with him. As soon 
as he had the old man “ nabbed,” he intended to 
move on Turner’s Island, and get Mr. Guyon and 
the remainder of the outfit. 

It was a nice large contract! 


The Coniackers 3 


34 


THE CONIACKERS 


Taking some clothing from his valise, he hastily 
dressed himself in a complete change of attire from 
head to foot. When his dressing was finished, he 
looked like a respectable farmer from “ Egypt ” or 
its vicinity. He used no disguise for his face, other 
than that supplied by a pair of smoke-colored 
spectacles, but over his own closely clipped hair 
he wore a beautifully made gray wig. 

He walked down-stairs to the telegraph office, 
and the operator had not the least suspicion that 
the elderly granger and “ Mr. W. W. Howard ” 
were “ one and the same person,” as the late Sen¬ 
ator Logan used to say. 

“ Kin I git a message yanked clear through to 
Chicago?” he asked. 

“ Rush message?” inquired the operator. 

“ I reckon that’s what you call it. Ef it don’t git 
thar to-night, it hain’t no good, no more’n the dead. ” 

“ I can put it through for you,” replied the op¬ 
erator, with a smile. 

Thereupon the following was sent: 

“ To Arch. Billings , 

“ 24.J Morgan St. 

Chicago. 

“ Get here at once and inquire for letters at La¬ 
clede. Don’t see me. 

“ W. W. H.” 

Having got this off his mind, the next thing to 
do was to get out to Lincoln County at once. Ar¬ 
rived at the depot, he was in sufficient good luck 
to catch a freight train on the “ Q.,” which was just 
about to pull out. 


MR. BEAUDRY 


35 


Going up to the conductor, he said: 

“ Reckon I’d like to ride a piece with you, stran¬ 
ger? ” 

“ Can’t be done, colonel. Against the rules to 
carry any one on a freight without a special permit. ” 

“ Well, see here, I’m farmin’ out here to Lincoln 
County, and I’ve got to git home to-night ef it 
costs me as much as two dollars. ” 

“ But I couldn’t carry you if you gave me an 
‘ X/ ” insisted the conductor.” 

“ Then, I reckon you’ll have to carry me for noth¬ 
in’,” said the soi disant farmer, as he pulled a pass 
on the “ Q.” from his pocket, and pointed out the 
fact that it read, “ on any train.” He then showed 
his star, and the conductor said: 

“ Why couldn’t you have said so before? The 
best on earth is none too good for any of Uncle 
Sam’s boys.” 

“ Don’t mention that word again; you don’t 
know who might hear it,” cautioned Hall. 

During the hour’s ride to Dameron, the detective 
entertained the conductor with some exciting anec¬ 
dotes of his own career, and, on being closely 
pressed as to his present business, he said: 

“ Never ask a man in my trade what he is going 
to do. He won’t tell you anything, unless he tells 
you a lie.” 

“ I might have known that,” said the conductor, 
“ otherwise what would secret service mean? ” 

After leaving the train, Hall made at once for 
the river bank, and, though it was pitch dark, he 
found his way without much difficulty to the .place 


36 


THE CONIACKERS 


where the boat had been concealed on his former 
visit. He was greatly surprised to find it under 
the bushes, for he had calculated that both his 
“ friends ” would be on the island and hard at work 
by this time. 

While he was puzzling over this matter, he heard 
voices coming down the hill, and had barely time 
to conceal himself on the other side of the clump 
of bushes, when he was able to make out two fig¬ 
ures coming directly towards the boat. 

“ So he kicked on going to Pearl’s,” one of the 
voices said. 

“ Not very strong. Only enough to show that he 
has common sense.” 

“ He might ’a had sense enough to savey that 
we’re as anxious to git rid of the stuff fair as he is 
to git it,” grumbled the first voice, which he recog¬ 
nized as Guyon’s. 

“ I like him. He seems to be a nervy cuss. 
What do you s’pose he told me? ” 

“ Give it up;” answered Guyon. 

“ Said if there was any monkeyin’ he was quick 
on the shoot.” 

By this time they had pulled the boat from under 
the bushes, and were ready to push off from the 
shore. 

" Well,” said Guyon, when everything was r^.dy, 
“ I’m glad the printin’ is all done, and we only 
have to rub down the shine.” Then he pushed 
the boat off, leaving the detective in possession of 
some very nice information. 

“ If I could only get a boat, I’d follow them,” 


MR. BEAUDRY 


37 


said Hall to himself. “ Surely there must be one 
somewhere about.” 

He walked down the bank to where he could just 
distinguish some buildings. Growing fainter and 
fainter in the distance he could hear the creaking 
of the oars in the row-locks, the pins of which 
were most likely rusted by their constant exposure. 

On reaching the buildings, he was rejoiced to 
find that one of them was a boat-house. It was 
neatly built and carefully locked up, so he con¬ 
cluded that it must belong to some private party — 
most likely to one of the wealthy young St. Louis¬ 
ans who have country residences along the river, 
on purpose to enjoy the boating facilities. 

The front door seemed entirely impracticable, 
so the officer went around to the rear. Of course 
it was burglary, from a technical standpoint, to 
break into these premises at night, but where such 
characters as Driggs and Guyon are concerned, 
Uncle Sam’s Boys don’t have time to stand on cer¬ 
emony. There was a boat of some kind in that 
shed, and just at that moment the government 
needed it. 

The back door was within an inclosure, which 
protected the rear entrance, and ran down to a lit¬ 
tle staging, from which, evidently, the boats were 
launched. Hall Was as active as a cat, and in a 
minute he was over the fence and examining the 
back door. This he found secured by a padlock and 
a strong staple. 

What was he to do? Feeling around on the plat¬ 
form, his hand touched something cold and round. 


38 


THE CONIACKERS 


On striking a match to examine it, he found it was 
a piece of stout iron awning-rod about eighteen 
inches long. Nothing could have suited his pur¬ 
pose better, and, using the rod as a “jimmy,” he 
had that staple out of the door in about two twos. 

On getting inside, by the light of matches, with 
which he was plentifully supplied, he made a, to 
him, startling discovery. 

There were only three boats on the racks — one 
four-oared racing shell, one double and one single 
scull shell. Now, though the captain had fre¬ 
quently whiled away a summer afternoon in a punt, 
angling for the succulent perch or the gamey black 
bass, he had never even seen a racing shell at close 
quarters before. 

The question was: Should he abandon the 
attempt to follow the counterfeiters until he had 
searched further for a less cranky craft? or should 
he save precious time and run the risk of having to 
swim out, or make food for the fishes? 

His mind was quickly made up. Lifting the 
light boat from the rack after some trouble, he 
carried her out on the landing stage and put her in 
the water. Returning, he found the sculls, which 
were laid on the floor under the boat rack, and the 
sliding seat which was with them. He then 
divested himself of all the clothing he could spare 
in case of a capsize and a necessity for swimming, 
and substituted for his boots a pair of canvas shoes 
which he found in a corner. 

Returning to the boat, he boarded her with in¬ 
finite caution, taking good care to step squarely on 


SECRET SERVICE AFLOAT 


39 


the flooring. His common sense told him the 
proper way to set his row-locks, and, though at first 
he found the sliding seat an awkward contrivance, 
it did not take him long to get the “ hang ” of it. 

Being a powerful fellow, and, as we said, having 
previously learned to row, it was not long before 
he was speeding across the water toward where he 
imagined he would strike the southern point of 
Turner’s Island, at a regular racing clip. 


CHAPTER IV. 

SECRET SERVICE AFLOAT. 

The gallant captain pulled like a Trojan, and 
perspired like a bull on a hot day. Perhaps Hanlan 
would not have admired the style of his stroke, 
but he was lucky enough to catch no crabs, by 
dint of keeping his mind strictly on the business in 
hand. 

In a few minutes he began to hear the creaking 
of the row-locks in front of him. At first he could 
not understand this, because, heavy though the 
other boat was, he had been so long delayed that 
the counterfeiters had had plenty of time to reach 
the shore, almost before he got afloat. 

“ What the d— is the meaning of this? ” he 
thought, as he stopped rowing for a minute and 
listened to the rusty tholepins making creaky music 
on the still night air. 

The night was dark as pitch, and he could see 
nothing, neither the shore he had left, the island 
he was seeking, nor the boat in front of him. 



40 


THE CONIACKERS 


Now, this was exactly what had happened to the 
coniackers. They had been so deeply interested 
in their conversation that they took little or no 
observation of their bearings when they started, 
and, by the time they did think of them, they were 
so far from shore that they could select nothing to 
steer by, and could not make out the island to save 
their lives. 

This situation gradually dawned on the detective’s 
mind, and having concluded that such was the case, 
he lay quietly on his oars, and let himself drift 
with the current. 

Presently he found himself close enough to the 
coniackers to hear their voices, and could soon dis¬ 
tinguish what they were saying. 

“ Where is the-island, any way? ” 

said Driggs, in no very amiable tone of voice. 

“ You know as much about it as I do,” said 
Guyon, with an oath which laid the one just used 
by Driggs, out cold. 

“ I believe we are too far south,” said Driggs, 
after a pause, during which the boats neared each 
other. 

“ Rats ! I’m going to pull east again,” was 
Guyon’s answer, as he again dipped his oars, and 
the creaking recommenced. 

Hall followed them by the sound, and fortunately 
Guyon proved to be right this time, for in a little 
while Driggs exclaimed: 

“ Here we are; I can see the point now.” 

Captain Hall looked over his shoulder, and could 
barely distinguish a somewhat blacker spot in front 



SECRET SERVICE AFLOAT 


41 


of him than there was behind. This he concluded 
must be the island. His row-locks worked smoothly, 
and without the least noise, but, being unaccus¬ 
tomed to the shell and sliding seat, he made an 
occasional splash, which would have given the 
counterfeiters warning but for the incessant creak¬ 
ing from their own row-locks. 

Paddling as cautiously as he was able, he followed 
them around the point, and along the eastern shore 
of Turner’s Island, until he heard Driggs exclaim : 

“ There she is, at last.” 

Again looking over his shoulder, the detective 
tried to make out what the mysterious “ she ” was 
that the counterfeiter had alluded to, but could 
distinguish nothing in the Stygian gloom of the 
desolate island, which loomed up like a black 
cloud above the surface of the water. He paddled 
barely sufficiently now to maintain his position, and 
prevent himself from being swept down stream by 
the current, while the other boat was vigorously 
pulled toward the island shore. In a few minutes 
he heard Driggs say : 

“ She’s fast,” and then the two coniackers seemed 
to be clambering up on a wharf, or something of 
the kind. 

The next development was that a bright light 
suddenly sent a long and brilliant reflection across 
the water, and then for the first time Hall was able 
to make out a part of the outline of an ordinary 
Mississippi house boat, one of those flat-bottomed 
craft in which families are born, live and die on the 
bosom of the father of waters. 


42 


THE CONIACKERS 




Venturing as near as he thought safe, the detect¬ 
ive saw enough of the boat to assure him that 
these fellows were about as cunning in the way they 
did business as two scoundrels well could be. He 
had no doubt that their printing apparatus and the 
bogus money were all on board, and that, at the 
first indication of a detective’s presence, the whole 
outfit could be dumped into the river, and all evi¬ 
dence of the nefarious business in which they were 
engaged, be thus destroyed. 

Dawn had by this time painted the first faint 
streaks of gray in the eastern sky, so Hall con¬ 
cluded to make the best of his way back to the 
boat-house. Somehow, the return trip seemed 
terribly long, and it was almost daylight when he 
finally reached the little landing stage, which he 
had considerable difficulty in finding. 

He rowed up to the platform, and in his eager¬ 
ness to get ashore, he first unshipped his oars, and 
then stood up in the shell. He was just congratu¬ 
lating himself on the luxury of stretching his legs, 
when, before he could realize what had happened, 
the frail craft shot from under him, and he found 
himself going down, down, down, until he imag¬ 
ined he would never reach the bottom. He did, 
however, in a very few seconds, and, giving a vig¬ 
orous kick, he was soon at the surface again, 
coughing, spluttering and swearing, all in the same 
breath. 

He was still in great good luck, for, striking out 
blindly, three strokes brought him to the landing 
stage, which he grabbed with all the desperation 


SECRET SERVICE AFLOAT 


43 


of a drowning man, and slowly hauled himself out. 

The first thing he thought of was the shell, and, 
looking down the river, in the gray morning light, 
he saw it calmly and peacefully floating away 
wrong side up. One of the sculls had come ashore, 
while the other bobbed on the ripples, twenty feet 
in the rear of the boat. 

“ That will have to go into Uncle Sam’s expenses,” 
he exclaimed aloud, “ but I reckon the trip was 
worth the price of the boat. Anyhow, I have no 
time to fool away, so here goes for dressing.” 

In the boat-house he found some towels. Strip¬ 
ping off his wet underclothes, in which alone he 
had made the cruise, he dried and dressed himself 
as quickly as he could, and climbing the fence 
again was soon on his way up the bank. 

When near the top, an athletic-looking young 
fellow in boating flannels, passed him on his way 
to the boat-house below. 

“ Hello ! ” he said, “ you are out early, old 
man.” 

“ Oh, tol’able, tol’abie,” replied the detective, 
quickening his pace. 

“Hold onl” cried the young fellow; “what 
have you been doing down in my boat-house? I 
saw you jumping the fence as I crossed the hill.” 

“ The d-’you did,” said Hall, who a moment 

before had been laughing internally at the neat 
way in which he was getting out of a scrape. 

At this minute the young man caught sight of 
the shell floating bottom upward some distance 
down the river. 


44 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ Have you been using my boat, setting her 
adrift ? ” he asked, hotly. 

“ What boat ? ” inquired Hall, stolidly. 

“ That boat, ” replied the young fellow, advancing 
threateningly. 

“ That hain’t a boat,” said Hall, “ it’s a snag I 
saw floating by a few minutes ago.” 

“ You come back to the boat-house with me,” 
said the craft’s owner, attempting to seize the de¬ 
tective by the arm. 

“ I’ll see you sizzling first,” replied Hall, as he 
flung the other man’s hand off. " I’ve got some¬ 
thing better to do than to lally-gag with you, he 
continued,” and I propose to go do it.” 

“ Well, you won’t ! ” exclaimed the now thor¬ 
oughly aroused oarsman, as he made a dash for 
Captain Hall and attempted to get the “ upper 
hold ” on him. 

Just how it occurred, that athletic young Mis¬ 
sourian will never be able to explain, but within 
two minutes of the first collision he was lying at the 
bottom of the hill, wondering how on earth he had 
arrived there so suddenly, while with streaming 
coat-tails, and his long, gray hair fluttering in the 
wind, that old granger was streaking it over the hill¬ 
top at a pace that would have turned a professional 
sprinter green with envy. 

Hall did not slacken his pace until he reached the 
depot. He heard the distant whistle of a down 
train as he ran, and made up his mind to travel to 
St. Louis on her if running would get him to the 
station in time. 


SECRET SERVICE AFLOAT 


45 


On his arrival at the Laclede Hotel he first wrote 
his instructions for his subordinates, in case they 
should arrive while he was away, and left them in 
the office addressed to Arch Billings. Then, hav¬ 
ing everything off his mind, he went to his room 
and snatched a few hours’ sleep. 

At 12:30 he got up, and, after a wash and shave, 
went down-stairs to the office to see whether any¬ 
body had been inquiring for him. No one had 
been there. There was a telegram on the rack, 
however, which informed him that Billings could 
not be on hand until the following day, owing to 
an important case which he could not leave. In 
his place another man by the name of Hudson 
would arrive that afternoon. 

“ Then, I’ll go it alone,” said Hall to himself, “ that 
dub Hudson is no good on earth. I’d sooner have 
a country sheriff’s deputy. That’s what I’ll do! 
I’ll get some of the grangers to watch the boat and 
see that she doesn’t quietly sneak up or down the 
river. Then I’ll collar brother Driggs in the morn¬ 
ing, and round up with Guyon and the plates in the 
afternoon. Archie will probably be here in time for 
that part of it. ” 

The next thing to do was to visit the Illinois 
sheriff on the far side of the river, whose jurisdiction 
overlooked the east side of Turner’s Island. Cross¬ 
ing to East St. Louis, Hall got a good horse, and 
was soon spinning over the road. He found the 
official, and, explaining who he was and what he 
wanted, the sheriff, an old farmer, said: 

“ I’ll watch ’em myself, I will by gosh! (Spit.) 


46 


THE CONIACKERS 


I’ll take ’Lige Hall along — he’s as smart as a whip, 
that boy, and has a right good boat. (Spit, spit.) 
Ef them fellers goes to move a foot, I’ll wire you. 
(Fresh chew). Ef they do more, why ’Lige ’ll 
foller ’em and shadder ’em clear to Noo Orleans if 
need be. He’s as smart as a whip, ’Lige is, and a 
natural comedian too*—funniest feller in the 
county, b’ gosh! ” (Spit, spit, spit.) 

This remarkable old gentleman’s foible was to 
punctuate and emphasize every sentence by spitting 
through his front teeth, which gave a weird and 
melancholy turn to his conversation. 

After pointing out the boat to him, and seeing 
’Lige and himself posted, Captain Hall returned to 
St. Louis, reaching there at 8:30. As he entered 
the Laclede Hotel, he was surprised by being met by 
old man Driggs. The counterfeiter merely said 
“Howdy?” and then moved toward the elevator. 

The detective followed him, and Driggs said, as 
soon as they reached room 254: 

“ Where you been? ” 

“ Out hustling for money,” was the unabashed 
reply. It was true too. He had been out working 
hard for the money Uncle Sam was in the habit of 
paying monthly for his services. 

“ Git it? ” asked Driggs. 

“ You bet. Look here,” the detective pulled 
out a big wad of bills, and, lifting the first three, 
showed three $100 notes. 

“ That’s the stuff! ” said Driggs, whose eyes 
glistened with greedy concupiscence, while his 
withered old hands opened and closed nervously, 


SECRET SERVICE AFLOAT 47 

as if he would like to clutch the whole bundle then 
and there. 

“ What did you come down town for? ” asked 
Hall, who pretended that he thought the two coun¬ 
terfeiters were living quite close to town. 

“ Jest to see if you’d be good and ready for me 
in the mornin’.’ 

“ Well, you can see that for yourself. How will 
you be fixed for me? ” 

“ As fer that,” answered Driggs, “ I guess I could 
let you have three times as much ef I was put to 
it.” 

“ Well, if my first crack goes all right, I will 
probably call on you for the whole business — about 
eighteen * thou,’ eh? ” 

“ Somewheres about there. Well, good-bye — 
I’ll be on deck in time.” 

They shook hands, and then separated. 

At nine o’clock the next morning there were two 
detectives in front and one in the rear of John 
Pearl’s saloon, while in the bar-room, two tough¬ 
looking citizens in far-West costumes, who drank 
bourbon and flashed plenty of money, were Treas¬ 
ury men in disguise, who had been sent on from the 
department to assist in the capture. 

Mr. Hodson, strange to say, had not been able 
to find W. W. Howard, who was said to be “ out” 
when he called, and consequently he was not " in 
it. ” The taller of the two men was Archie Billings, 
a very giant in size and strength, and a man whose 
only motto was : “ Face the music.” 

Driggs was nowhere to be seen, and Hall had 


48 


THE CONIACKERS 


not yet arrived. At 9:07 the latter entered the 
place, carrying a small black valise, and, going up 
to the bar-keeper, asked whether anybody had in¬ 
quired for Mr. How. 

“ Not yet/’ was the answer, “ but, if you’re How, 
you’re to go to the wine-room, in the rear.” 

The bar-keeper led the way, and, closing the door 
of the wine-room after him, left the detective to his 
own reflections. 

Half past nine came, and T;hen ten, but no Driggs, 
and no counterfeit money. Hall was growing very 
impatient, when the door opened and the old man, 
carrying a parcel wrapped up carefully in brown 
paper and tied with a stout string, entered. 

He looked anxious and careworn, but his face 
lightened up as he saw the detective. 

“ I’m late, mister,” he said, “ but I couldn’t help 
it. I got unexpectedly detained this mornin’. What 
you got in the bag ? ” he continued, as his eyes lit 
on the little valise which stood on the table. 

“The long green,” answered the detective. 
“ What have you got in the parcel ? ” 

“ The short green,” replied Driggs, with a grin. 
“ Now,” he went on, “ I’ll lay my pile and my gun 
here. You lay your gun beside it and show your 
hand.” 

As coolly as if he were about to buy a dozen new- 
laid eggs, Hall drew his revolver from his hip pocket, 
and laid it on the table beside Driggs’ weapon. 
Then, opening the valise, he exhibited a number of 
piles of notes tied together with strings. Some 
had a hundred dollar bill on top, and others only 


SECRET SERVICE AFLOAT 


49 


a ten or a five. The top notes were the only large 
ones, all the others being ones and twos, but the 
lot looked like $2,000 in good money. 

“ Now show your hand,” said Hall, after he had 
exhibited this wealth to the greedy gaze of old 
Driggs, and reclosed the valise. 

Driggs smiled a faint sort of smile, and said : 

“ I was afraid this might be a plant, so I didn’t 
bring my papers with me.” 

Hall looked at him for a moment in great sur¬ 
prise, and then, in an injured tone of voice, said: 

“ You don’t seem to have very good judgment 
about men. However, if that’s the case, it’s all 
off.” Saying this, he picked up his revolver, and 
was about to replace it in his pocket, when the old 
man stopped him by saying; 

“ Hold on, it ain’t all off yet.” 

“ What do you mean? that you have put up a 
job to rob me of my good stuff? ” asked Hall, with 
the revolver held threateningly. 

“ No; only they ain’t a d— bill in this package. 
If this was a plant, I guess you’d grab the package 
and git fooled. But I see you’re all right, so here 
goes.” 

With this the old fellow stripped off his coat and 
vest. Then his shirt followed, and as he began to 
pull it over his head, Hall saw that he had counter¬ 
feit notes wrapped around and around his body, 
kept in their places by strings wound tightly over 
them. 

Before the astonished Mr. Driggs could even cry 


The Coniackers 4 


50 


THE CONIACKERS 




out, his wrists were caught in a pair of “ nippers,” 
and he found himself securely gagged with his own 
flannel shirt. 

A minute later that gag had beqn rendered still 
more effective, and Hall went to the door and 
coughed twice. 

The two Wild West men began to walk rapidly 
toward the wine-room, when the bar-keeper called 
roughly: 

“ Hi, you ! that room’s engaged.” 

“ That’s all right,” answered Billings covering 
the man with his revolver, “ you keep a civil tongue 
in your head, and mind your own business.” 

The bar-keeper ducked behind the counter, and 
the next instant a bullet came crashing after the 
two officers, just as they entered the wine-room 
door. 

Billings turned, and, before the fellow could pull 
trigger again, a sharp report from the detective’s 
pistol followed by a yell of pain, showed that 
Archie Billings had not lived twenty years of his 
life on the border without learning to handle his 
pop. 

The shooting brought the detectives, who were 
waiting at the front and rear of the saloon, into the 
house in a hurry, and the wounded bar-keeper 
was placed under arrest. 

This was the only opposition offered to the 
officers, who stripped off the counterfeits from 
about Driggs’ body, and then, after allowing him 
to dress, hustled him off to the nearest police sta¬ 
tion in short order. 


THE FARMER DETECTIVES 


51 


“ D— your soul,” he said bitterly to Hall, “ I 
mistrusted you from the start, and, ef I hadn’t ’a been 
such a d— obstinate old fool, I’d ’a let G—I mean 
Quinn — turn this trick instead of me.” 

“ My dear Mr. Driggs,” replied Hall, sarcastic¬ 
ally, “ don’t let that little matter trouble you in the 
least, for to-night our mutual friend, Mr. Guyon, 
will occupy an apartment in the same hotel as 
that in which you will have the pleasure of lodg- 
ing.” 

“ Well, he won’t, Mr. Smart Aleck,” retorted 
the disgusted coniacker; “ he’ll fool you, Jim will, 
and be d—d to you.” 


CHAPTER V. 

THE FARMER DETECTIVES. 

We must now turn back and see what Sheriff 
Hezekiah Tibbs, and his assistant, ’Lige Hull, the 
“ natural comedian,” were doing. 

“ Say, ’Lige,” said the sheriff, shortly after Cap¬ 
tain Hall had posted them and given them their 
instructions, “ I reckon we could keep them roos¬ 
ters (spit) better under sur-z^-ance ef we hed a 
spy-glass ; (spit spit) I do, b’ gosh! ” 

“ Well, what’s the matter with Uncle Billy Knox? ” 
asked ’Lige, as he carelessly shoved his hand into 
the sheriff’s pocket, and extracted his piece of hard 
tobacco. 

“ Oh! go ’long with your monkeyin’,” said that 
functionary, after an ineffectual grab for his plug 
of “ chewing- ” 



52 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ Hold on — which ’ll you have, the plug or the 
chaw? ” answered ’Lige, with a grin, as soon as he 
got out of reach with his prize. “ Say,” he con¬ 
tinued, as he commenced to masticate a chew as 
large as his mouth could hold, and that was con¬ 
siderable of a lump, “ Uncle Billy Knox has a spy¬ 
glass— I seen it myself last week — got it in St. 
Louis — s’pose I go and git it and bring some fish 
lines? ” 

“ Great head — cause we’re liable to be here some 
time. We kin git out ’n fish, ’n they wunt think 
there’s anythin’up.” 

So ’Lige went away for the telescope and lines, 
with which he returned in something less than 
three hours. He found Hezekiah fuming mad 
when he arrived at the point of observation. 

“ Say, ’Lige, I most believe you’re a gosh 
dummed fool,” said the sheriff, in answerto ’Lige’s 
greeting. “ Them fellers might be to St. Louis 
now fer all you (spit), they might, b’ gosh! ” 

“ But they hain’t, and they hain’t no harm done,” 
answered the offending ’Lige, with all the assurance 
of a smart country boy. “ They was hevin’ a little 
game of sledge to Hermann’s grocery for the liquor, 
and in course I hed to take a hand.” 

“ Fust thing Hermann knows, he’ll find himself 
pulled,” grumbled the sheriff. “ How many fingers 
have you got tucked away en under your vest? ” 

“ Nary one,” replied ’Lige with one of his most 
expansive grins, “ me ’n Clint Burchall cleaned ’em 
all out, and I * passed’ every trip, tellin’ Hermann 


THE FARMER DETECTIVES 53 

he owed me one, which I kep’ tally on with a piece 
of chalk.” 

“ That was right smart o’ you, ’Lige. When a 
man’s workin’for Uncle Sam, he wants to keep a 
clear head, ’n red liquor haint a goin’ to give it to 
him (spit); it hain’t, b’ gosh!” 

“ That’s just whut I thought,” returned ’Lige, 
“ and I says to myself, says I, ‘ like enough we’ll 
hev to be out there all night, ’n ef we do, we’ll 
need a drop o’ poison to keep up the circ’lation ; ’ 
so, when the game was over, ‘ Hermann,’ I says, 

‘ how many do you make it? ’ ” 

“ ‘ Make what? ’ says Hermann. 

“ ‘ The drinks you owe me,’ says I. 

“ * I hain’t kep’ no account,’ says Hermann ; 

‘ how many do you reckon it? ’ 

“ Well,’ says I, i I’ve kep’tab on this here thing, 
’n I reckon about nineteen games is what we’ve 
played. I’ll take mine in a black bottle.’ 

“ Well, sir, Hermann he kicked the gol durndest 
you ever see, but the boys stood in with me, and 
’lowed, as I kep’ tab, ’n had the chalk-marks to 
show fer it, I was right, so he had to perjoos.” 

“ ’Lige,” said the sheriff, solemnly, “ I alius said 
you was the smartest boy in the county (spit, 
spit), ’n I’m durned ef I don’t believe you’ll be 
supervisor, or mebbe sheriff yet. Where is that 
’ere bottle? ” 

Much flattered by his superior’s good opinion, 
’Lige, who had brought a bundle wrapped up in 
his red bandana handkerchief, undid the knots, and 
handed the bottle to Hezekiah, at the same time 


54 


THE CONlACKERS 


exhibiting the fishing tackle and a common little 
telescope with a red barrel to it 

The sheriff was no longer interested in the “ spy¬ 
glass ” or fish lines. Removing the tobacco from 
his mouth, he rolled it up in a scrap of paper, and 
carefully deposited it in his pants pocket. Then, 
uncorking the bottle and cautiously smelling its 
contents, as if suspicious of some practical joke, 
for ’Lige was notorious for this form of bucolic wit, 
he rolled his eyes heavenward in ecstacy for a mo¬ 
ment, in enjoyment of pleasurable anticipation, 
and then put the bottle to his lips. For some sec¬ 
onds the silence was only broken by the “ gluggety- 
glug-glug ” from the neck of the bottle as the 
liquor poured in an unsteady stream down his 
throat. 

“Til be gosh durned ef that ain’t good,” he said, 
as he handed the bottle back to ’Lige; “ try it. 
That’s the stuff to put hair on your breast.” 

’Lige took a pull at the bottle, and, after re¬ 
corking it, he carried it down to the water’s edge, 
and deposited it in the boat. 

“ Reckon you’d better dig worms while I bail 
her out,” said ’Lige, as he dipped up a canful of 
bilge water from the bottom of his boat. 

“ All right,” said the sheriff, and away he went 
to get the necessary bait. Not very long afterward 
they were anchored a short distance from the bank, 
enjoying alternately the delights of angling and 
the delights of liquor distilled from corn in Egypt 

(in.). 

On board the house-boat, which lay tied up to 


THE FARMER DETECTIVES 


55 


Turner’s Island, an entirely different scene was in 
progress. 

In the cabin, a miserable cuddy-hole about 6xio, 
which contained a stove, a table, two three-legged 
stools and a couple of bunks ranged against the 
sides, sat Guyon and Driggs. 

“ Got ’em all finished? ” asked the old man. 

“ Yes,” returned Guyon, “ I printed the last of 
the backs about an hour ago. They won’t be dry 
enough to take the shine off till to-night.” 

“ What made you tell me you had ’em all fin¬ 
ished?” 

“ Thought I had, but I overlooked some that I 
thought I had the backs onto.” 

“ Well, you hain’t got ’em all finished yet? ” said 
Driggs, going to one of the bunks. He raised the 
lid, and, putting his hand under the bedclothes, 
pulled out a neat parcel, which he opened. 

“ Here,” he said, " here’s about three thousand 
papers you forgot about the other night, when you 
got so full of tanglefoot.” 

“Well, I’m d-d! ” was Guyon’s ejaculation; 

" I thought I took ’em all. I reckon you’d better 
give ’em to me now, while you go on fixing the 
ones that are ready, so as to have ’em all slick for 
Howard in the mornin’.” 

“ No,” said the old man, decidedly, “ we have a 
plenty printed for now, and these can wait a day or 
two till we drop down the river. I’m gittin’ sort o’ 
scared stoppin’ so long in the one place.” 

“ How far are you goin’ ? ” 

“ I know a safe bayou in Louisiana near the 



56 


THE CONIACKERS 


mouth of the Red River. That’ll be our next 
stoppin’place, as soon as we get Howard’s money.” 

“ All right,” replied Guyon, “ now we’d better 
git to work on the pile.” 

From another bunk, the comackers took two 
large parcels of counterfeit bills, done up in bun¬ 
dles of one hundred each — each bundle represent¬ 
ing $1,000 in “ Webster-head ” silver certificates, 
so called because the portrait of the great orator is 
engraved on the note. 

In their then condition, they were almost perfect 
counterfeits, the only tell-tale evidence of their spu¬ 
rious character, to the ordinary observer, being 
that they were altogether too shiny and a little 
off color. The paper itself was too coldly white 
to look natural. 

The fire was alight, and the kettle was singing 
merrily, so Driggs took a large piece of plug 
tobacco, and divided it into strips with a cutter. 
These he threw into a tin dish, and poured boiling 
water over them. He next took off his pants, as 
if to cool off, for the stove made the stuffy little 
cabin stuffier still; and, turning to Guyon, he said: 

“ Where’s the syrup? ” 

“ I have it forward, by the press,” answered Jim; 
“ but I’ll go and get it, and see if the greens are 
drying.” 

Untying one of the rolls, Driggs picked up a 
note and dipped it into the tobacco tea which he 
had just made, and then, laying it on his bare thigh, 
began to rub it with a small, fine sponge. 

Thus, in turn, he treated the others, the tobacco 


THE FARMER DETECTIVES 57 

water giving the little color which had been miss¬ 
ing, and at the same time removing the excessive 
shine. Guyon reappeared a few minutes later, and, 
removing his pants, sat down, and, after Driggs 
had completed the tobacco process, finished the 
work by rubbing a minute quantity of glycerine 
into each note. This was for the purpose of taking 
off the too new appearance, and also of softening 
the paper, which was of a harsher character than 
the genuine silk fibre. 

Steadily they worked away at this business until 
late in the afternoon, when Guyon, glancing across 
to the Illinois shore, saw three men on the bank 
looking toward the boat. 

“ What the blazes do those mugs want ? ” he 
said to Driggs, as he pointed out the three figures 
to his companion. 

“ Grangers, like as not,” answered Driggs, 
scarcely pausing in his occupation to look at them. 
Guyon felt a trifle uneasy, and kept a watch on the 
men until two of them disappeared. Finally he 
lost Sight of the third man, and said: 

“ I don’t like the looks of that, Nelse; seems to 
me it might be a plant.” 

“ Where’s your nerve ? ” asked Driggs, working 
away at the pile of notes. 

“ Nerve’s all right, and I have a good plenty of 
it, but I have a holy horror of doing time.” 

Nothing more was said until Driggs noticed the 
boat out in the river, and saw the two men in her, 
fishing. “ Nothing much to be scared about in 


58 


THE CONIACKERS 


that,” he said, calling Guyon’s attention to the men, 
“ it’s jest a couple of grangers fishin\ ” 

The “ couple of grangers ” continued to fish until 
pretty near sundown, and by that time, both, 
owing to the strange influence of the black bottle, 
had become imbued with the idea that they were 
great detectives. 

“ I’ll tell you right now,” said ’Lige ; “ here’s our 
chance to make a reputation. We’ve been a-fish- 
ing for suckers long enough ; now s’pose we git 
after the men ? ” 

“ What do you mean, ’Lige ? ” 

“ Why, go over and investigate that house-boat 
and find out what’s a-goin’ on. Mebbe these Treas¬ 
ury sharks think no one kin do anythin’ real bright 
’ceptin’ themselves.” 

Hezekiah considered this proposition favorably, 
and said : 

“ We hain’t seen hide nor hair of no livin’ thing 
all day. I don't b’lieve they’s anybody there at 
all.” 

“ Me too,” replied ’Lige. M I vote we jest go 
’n see.” 

So, taking in their lines, and another goodly 
swallow from the almost empty bottle, they rowed 
across the stream toward the boat. 

Guyon spotted the move almost instantly. 

“ What did I tell you, Nelse? ” he cried, “ there’s 
somethin’ wrong about them fellers, as sure as h—. ” 

“ We’d best put the stuff out ’o sight, anyhow,” 
returned the old man, hastily shoving the counter¬ 
feits into the bank. 


THE FARMER DETECTIVES 


59 


“ Well, and what about the press and plates ? ” 

“There’s only two of ’em,” returned Driggs, 
grimly, “ and, if they try to come aboard us, they’ll 
find that my ‘ bulldog ’ never barks without bitin’ 
— there or thereabouts.” 

“ S’pose there’s more of ’em a-comin’ ’round the 
point ? ” suggested Guyon. 

“ I reckon you carry a gun, don’t you ? ” asked 
the old man. “ What do you think ’Lise would say 
ef she saw you scart and white as you are now? 
She’d shake you in a minute.” 

“ You don’t need to slur me, Nelse. You got 
solid with Gerty through your nerve, but you can 
bet your life, ef there’s any fightin’ to do, I won’t 
run away. I hate to get into it, though, jest the 
same.” 

The sheriff’s boat approached nearer and nearer, 
but, by the time it reached the house-boat, all traces 
of the “ coniacking lay ” had disappeared. 

“ Hello ! ” yelled ’Lige, in an extremely drunken 
voice. 

It was Jim’s turn now to show his grit, in the very 
presence of what might prove to be real danger. 

“ Hello! ” he answered, as he emerged from the 
cabin door, which opened into a little cock-pit, from 
whence three low steps led to the deck. 

“ Want to buy some fish?” asked ’Lige. 

“ Reckon I can catch all I want,” answered 
Guyon. 

“Well, then,” said ’Lige; “s’pose you take a 
drink and be sociable.” With this he held up the 
bottle. 


6o 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ Much obleeged,” answered Jim; “ but we hev 
a five-gallon jug of stuff that never paid no taxes. 
We brought it from our country. Have some?” 

“ Be gol durned if we don’t go you,” chimed in 
Hezekiah, who, by this time, was stupidly drunk, 
and whose tongue was as thick as his arm. 

" Chuck us your bottle,” said Guyon, “ and I’ll 
give you something that’ll tickle your gizzard.” 

’Lige threw the bottle to Guyon, who caught it, 
and, emptying out the small amount of liquor 
remaining in it, disappeared into the cabin, after 
saying: “ I’ll be back in a minute, boys.” 

When he returned he took a pull at the stuff him¬ 
self, saying: “ Here’s how,” with a sly wink to old 
man Driggs, who stood listening just inside the 
cabin door. He then pitched the bottle to ’Lige, 
who, being unprepared, received it at about the 
place where the second button of his vest would 
have come if he had been guilty of wearing such a 
garment. 

“ Ouch !” yelled ’Lige. 

“ That was a body blow— it was, b’ gosh! ” said 
Hezekiah, with a drunken leer. However, they 
both took a drink to the health of their unknown 
host, and, when that was disposed of, the sheriff 
said: 

“ That beats cock fightin’. Durned ef I wouldn’t 
like (hie) to visit wish you’s-long ash that stuff 
lasts.” 

“ Well,” laughed Guyon, “ come over to-morrow 
night and have a game of seven up. ” 

“ I will, b’ gosh (hie), ’n bring some o’ the boys 


THE FARMER DETECTIVES 


61 


with me. Thatsh besht liquor ever saw. Nothin* 
like crooked stuff to find out your insides ” (spit — a 
very poor aim this time. Result, slobbering over 
his chin), “ b’gosh! ” 

“Well — so long, and much obliged for the 
poison,” said ’Lige, who was considerably less under 
the influence than his companion. 

“ Goodnight,” called Guyon; “ and don’t forget 
to come over to-morrow night, and bring the boys 
with you. I’d ask you to-night, on’y I have a date 
with a gal of mine over here apiece.” 

“ They may be all right, but I’m d-d if I 

think so,” remarked Guyon, as he rejoined Driggs 
in the cabin. 

“ G’long,” said Nelse ; “ they’re only a couple of 
drunken grangers — there’s no harm in them. 
Well, I’ll just have time to catch the train, sol’ll 
eat in town. So long.” 

“ While you’re gone, I’m going to keep my eye 
peeled for the grangers, just the same,” returned 
Guyon. “ I tell you plainly, I don’t like the looks 
of them a little bit.” 

Driggs went to St. Louis again that night, and, 
when he returned at two o’clock in the morning, his 
first question was: 

“ Well, did you see any more of the grangers? ” 

“ That’s what I did,” replied Jim ; “ they have 
camped out on the bank there, for I saw their fire 
till about an hour ago. I’m going to take that 
press and the plates off anyhow, in case somethin’ 
happens, and I was just waitin’ for you to help 



62 


THE CONIACKERS 


Driggs grumbled a good deal at this, and said he 
was tired — it was a fool-trick to get so scared of a 
couple of farmers, and a lot more to the same 
effect. But Jim was determined to do it, so, after 
some discussion, the press was raised by means of 
a rope and pulley attached to an improvised crane, 
from the cuddy-hole in the bow where it was 
secreted, and, after some two hours of tedious 
labor, just as daylight began to break, it was 
lowered into the small boat. 

“ Say, here’s daylight, Nelse,” said Jim, as the sky 
began to grow light in the east. “ We’ve got to 
hustle if we want to git the things out of the way 
without them fellers seein’ us.” 

There was no need to hurry, had they but known 
it, for the sheriff and his deputy, with their arms 
about each other’s neck, were sleeping the sleep 
of the drunken on the bank across the river. 

“ I’m hurryin’ all I can,” grumbled Nelse, “ and 
I can’t do no more.” 

At last all was ready. The press was on the 
small boat, and they were about to push off, when 
Driggs said: 

“ Thought you was agoin’ to take them plates 
and the ink along.” 

“ We haven’t time to move the ink, but I’ll get 
the plates. It’s growing light so quick that we 
may be too late even now.” As he finished speak¬ 
ing, Jim darted into the cabin, and in a moment 
returned with the plates, covered up in a piece of 
rubber blanket. 

The small boat lay between the larger one and 


THE FARMER DETECTIVES 


63 


the island, to prevent the men on the opposite 
shore, if they should be detectives, from watching 
their movements in hoisting out the press. Ac¬ 
cordingly, when they shot out under the nose of the 
larger boat, it is doubtful whether they would have 
been observed in the uncertain light, even if the 
sheriff and his deputy had been on the alert. 

At this moment a thin fog began to rise from 
the bosom of the Mississippi, much to the satisfac¬ 
tion of Guyon and Driggs, so that, by the time they 
had rounded the point, the Missouri shore was 
completely hidden from their view. 

“ D-n those row-locks, I forgot to oil them 

again, and they’re screeching loud enough to be 
heard in St. Louis,” said Guyon, who was in any¬ 
thing but a cheerful temper. 

“ I guess no one will hear them,” answered 
Driggs; “ this place is pretty lonesome, and anyway 
the fog hides us, supposin’ there was anybody 
about.” 

At length they reached a little cove in the shore 
of Turner’s Island, and into it the boat was pulled 
and.beached. A few boards had been brought in 
the bottom of the boat, and along these the heavy 
press was dragged, as if they had been a tramway, 
into the bush. 

Arrived here, they set to work with pick and 
shovel to dig a “ grave ” for their stuff, and as soon 
as it was deep enough, the press, carefully wrapped 
in oilcloth bandages, was lowered down a steep 
incline. The plates were deposited beneath it, and 
then the earth was filled in. 



64 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ If they come a-hunting,” growled old man 
Diggs, “ they’ll spot this cache the first thing.” 

“ No, they won’t,” answered Guyon, “ not when 
I’m done with it. You come with me and bear a 
hand.” Following Guyon, Driggs penetrated still 
further into the bush, and was surprised to find a 
number of trees cut down and into four-foot lengths. 

“ Grab a-hold,” said Guyon, taking one end of a 
medium-sized log. Driggs, still grumbling, did as 
he was directed, and together they carried log after 
log and laid them on the cache until something 
over a cord of firewood was piled upon it. 

“ I was ready for this,” said Jim, “ and, while you 
were blowin’yourself down to St. Louis, I was get- 
tin’ ready to skin out if anything happened.” 

“ Well, they’ll git onto the woodpile too,” snarled 
Driggs. 

“ No, they won’t. That stuff’ll look as if it had 
been there a year by the time it’s been in the 
sun a day or so. Anyhow, it’s my press and plates; 
so you have nothing to grumble at.” 

By the time this job was finished, it was eight 
o’clock, so they returned to the house-boat with all 
possible speed, in order that Driggs might get ready 
for his trip to town. 

It did not take long to row back, and it was with 
a sigh of relief that two men on the opposite bank, 
whose bloodshot eyes, parched mouths and aching 
heads reminded them of the orgies of the night be¬ 
fore, saw them board the house-boat again. Once 
on board, the counterfeits were fastened around 


THE FARMER DETECTIVES 


65 


Driggs’ body, and as rapidly as possible he pre¬ 
pared himself for his journey to St. Louis. 

“ How you feelin’, Lige? ” asked Hezekiah. 

Awful,” replied Lige, laconically. 

“ My head’s a bustin’ open,” continued the 
sheriff. 

“ Yes, so’s mine,” replied ’Lige; “ that’s what it 
is to get a great big head while you’re ’tendin’ to’ 
Uncle Sam’s business.” 

“ Well, they ain’t got away from us, b’ gosh! ” 

“ That’s our good luck, nothin’ else.” 

“ I b’lieve I’ll take a chawer terbacker to kind o 
take this bokay out’n my mouth,” said the sheriff. 

He took out the tobacco, brought it up towards 
his mouth, and then dropped it, saying, disgust¬ 
edly: “ Reckon I won’t, after all. Terbacker kind 
o’ goes back on my stummick this mornin’.” 

At this moment, ’Lige, whose eyes were sharper 
than the sheriff’s, saw the coniackers re-entering 
their boat. 1 

“ There they go again,” said he. 

“ Gimme the spy-glass,” commanded the sheriff. 
After peering at the boat, he continued: 

“ One of ’em’s got a passel, so I guess he’s a-goin’ 
to town — see, he’s goin’ alone, for the other feller’s 
gone back on the big boat. Oh, they’re all right. 
We’ve got ’em treed sure enough.” 

Stationed on the Missouri bank, officer Frank 
Williams had watched the bushes for the coniack¬ 
ers all night long. He had seen old man Driggs 
when he crossed to the island at two o’clock in the 


The Coniackers 5 


66 


THE CONIACKERS 


morning, and waited there until eight o’clock to see 
if he returned. The fog had prevented him from 
seeing the trip made up the island to bury the 
press, and, thinking all was right and that the two 
men on the Illinois shore would be able to see 
everything that went on, he walked up the hill to a 
little tavern to breakfast. 

After a hurried meal, he took the 9:15 train for 
St. Louis, and saw Driggs rush into the station 
just in time to get on board. Of course, the very 
first thing he noticed was the brown paper parcel, 
and he jumped to the conclusion that it contained 
the “green goods.” His instructions, however, 
were merely to shadow the island, and not inter¬ 
fere with either of the coniackers, unless they 
attempted to take the boat up or down the river, or 
to leave by some north-bound train. 

Therefore he shadowed Nelse Driggs to Pearl’s 
saloon, and was one of those who rushed in when 
Archie Billings so unsuccessfully used the bar¬ 
tender’s body for a target. 


CHAPTER VI. 

“ CAP HALL MISSES HIS ROUND-UP.” 

No SOONER was Nelson Driggs safely under arrest, 
than Hall, with half a dozen picked men, drove 
rapidly to the river, where a fast tug was awaiting 
them, under a full head of steam. 

It did not take many minutes for the party to 
get on board, the shore-line was quickly hauled in, 



CAP HALL MISSES HIS ROUND-UP 67 


and away the “ Nancy Till ” started, snorting, puff¬ 
ing and jumping as if she fully understood the 
importance of her mission. 

Not knowing how many there might be in the 
gang, Hall ordered his men to re-load their revolv¬ 
ers from a fresh box of cartridges which he opened 
for the purpose 

“ I don’t want any snapping, boys, for there may 
be a dozen of them on board their craft. If you 
have to shoot, see that you get there. The man 
I want is Jim Guyon, and you all know his descrip¬ 
tion. I want him alive , and the man who lays 
hand on him first gets a bonus of one hundred dol¬ 
lars from me.” 

“ Hurrah! ” shouted the men, as each one deter¬ 
mined to earn that hundred dollars if it cost a 
limb. 

After a remarkably quick run, they reached Turn¬ 
er’s Island, and, long before they got near enough 
to see with the naked eye, through a pair of good 
binoculars Hall was able to make out a thin curl of 
smoke from about the place where he judged the 
house-boat lay. 

“They’re there, boys!” he exclaimed, in high 
glee, as he handed the glass to Captain Gribbler, of 
the “ Nancy Till.” “ Don’t you see smoke coming 
from the island? ” 

“You pet you, on de east seit,” assented the 
captain. “ By chimini! ” he continued, “ I get me 
mine rewolver and dake a crack at dot hundert 
tollars mineselluf.” 

They kept straight ahead until they reached the 


68 


THE CONIACKERS 


northern end of the island, and, as they passed the 
house-boat, through the glass they could see Jim 
Guyon looking at them, as he leaned lazily against 
the cabin, smoking. 

When they reached the north end, so that Guyon 
should suspect nothing, they altered their course, 
passing over to the west channel, as if they 
intended landing at the little town on the Missouri 
shore. 

As soon as they were out of sight of the house¬ 
boat, the tug’s yawl was lowered, and half the force 
piled into it, intending to make their way by land 
to the counterfeiter’s boat; while the “ Nancy Till,” 
after giving them time to get well posted, was to 
drop down the river, and open the attack. 

Hall calculated that the minute he and his men 
attempted to board the house-boat, Guyon, and 
whatever other members of the gang might be 
present, would get ashore and run right into the 
arms of the men ambushed in the woods. 

The party on board the tug never passed such an 
impatient half-hour in their lives. 

“ There’s something wrong with my ticker,” said 
Billings. 

“ Why? ” said the captain, “ what’s gone wrong 
with it ? ” 

“ The blamed second-hand is counting minutes 
and hours, instead of seconds and minutes, that’s 
all.” 

“ Don’t be impatient,” said Hall, “that is the 
worst vice a detective can have. I’d sooner hire a 
patient drunkard than an impatient man who never 


CAP HALL MISSES HIS ROUND-UP 


69 


touched a drop. I could depend on the drunkard 
not to get full on duty, where I would not depend 
on the impatient man for five minutes’ watching.” 

In spite of this little homily, Hall tramped up 
and down the deck in a perfect bath of pers¬ 
piration. 

At last the half-hour agreed upon was passed, 
and, as the big hand of the clock finally ticked it off, 
“ Cut her loose! ” roared Hall. 

“ Bing, Bing,” went the gong, and the “ Nancy 
Till,” receiving the impetus of her powerful screw, 
again dashed forward to the undoing of Jim 
Guyon. 

Down they swept, running like mad with the 
current, while Hall sat on top of the wheel-house 
during the whole trip, the binocular glued to his 
eyes, directed to the house-boat. Not a soul was 
to be seen; so he concluded that the counterfeit¬ 
ers suspected nothing. 

At length the signal was given to stop, and, in 
obedience to her rudder, the “Nancy Till” swung 
inward, rapidly and silently, toward the object of 
attack. 

“D—n it! that’s curious!” exclaimed Hall, as 
nobody appeared on the deck of the house-boat; 
“ the fellow must have gone to sleep. I suppose 
he’s alone, after all.” 

The “ Till” glided gently up to the boat, and, 
as soon as they were within jumping distance, five 
men sprang from her deck to that of the house¬ 
boat. Captain Hall himself, by jumping over the 
heads of the others from his elevated perch on top 


THE CONIACKERS 


7 o 

of the wheel-house, like Eli, “ got there ” first, 
and dashed at the cabin door. 

“It’s locked, boys!” he shouted; “batter her 
in!” 

In an instant a determined rush was made at the 
door by the entire party, and the portal, giving 
way under their combined weight, burst open, and 
the whole crowd tumbled into the stuffy little cabin 
together. 

Quickly springing to their feet, they saw that 
neither Guyon nor anybody else was present. Two 
of them darted forward to the big hatchway, in 
case their prey might be hidden there, while the 
others searched the bunks and looked every¬ 
where. 

“ He’s gone! ” ejaculated Hall in amazement. 

“ Dot tarn schvindler! ” puffed Captain Gribbler. 

“ The boys in the woods must have caught him,” 
said Hall. 

" I pet you de bier dey dond! ” returned Grib¬ 
bler. 

Hall then fired his revolver in the air, and the 
shore party, in response to this preconcerted signal, 
rushed down to the beach. 

They had no prisoner. 

“ Have you got him? ” roared Hall, using his 
hands as a speaking-trumpet. 

“No! haven’t seen a soul!” answered little 
Dick Finn, the funniest little chap in the service. 

“Well—I’m d-d,” said Captain Hall, in 

despair. How Guyon had got away, he could not 
imagine. There was the gloomy fact, however, he 



CAP HALL MISSES HIS ROUND-UP 


71 

was gone, and there was no clue left behind him to 
tell how, where or when he had gone. 

When the “Nancy Till” passed up the river, 
Guyon, who was as cunning as a fox, was on 
deck, on the lookout for some such demonstration 
from his enemy, the government. 

As the tug passed the house-boat, which, by the 
way, was named the “ Gerty Stadtfeldt,” in honor of 
old man Driggs’ woman, Jim shrewdly suspected 
what they were about. But, when Hall lowered the 
binocular glass for a moment, Jim was certain that 
he and Mr. Howard were one. 

As soon, then, as the tug passed out of sight, in 
order to save himself from being caught like a rat 
in a trap, Jim pulled off his boots and stockings, 
ran to the cabin, and got all the good money he 
had, at the same time threw out all the counterfeits, 
and then, going over the side, he started to swim 
for the Illinois shore. 

It was a desperate undertaking; but it was a 
Hobson’s choice between swimming the river and 
going over the road for, perhaps, twenty years. 
The thought of quiet surrender occurred to him, 
but that meant penitentiary. On the other hand, 
resistance, and perhaps the killing of an officer, 
meant the end of a rope. 

Jim Guyon was justified, under the circumstances, 
in taking his chances in the river. 

The current helped him through it, carried him 
a long distance down stream, and precisely at the 
moment when the “ Nancy Till ” ran alongside the 
“ Gerty Stadtfeldt,” thoroughly exhausted and una- 


72 


THE CONIACKERS 


ble to keep afloat another minute, Jim Guyon 
crawled out of the water three miles below, and 
lay, like a man who has run a desperate race, 
panting on the wet sand. 

Meanwhile, the officers searched the boat for the 
press and plates, which, as they soon discovered, 
had been spirited away. They found $13,030 in 
the counterfeit bills, and 2,778 pieces of paper, 
many of them having received the “ fibre printing,” 
the plate of which they found. They got a large 
quantity of fine inks; black, green and carmine, 
such as are used in printing notes. 

The island was thoroughly searched from end to 
end in the hope of finding Guyon or some clue to 
the whereabouts of the plates and press. But in 
vain. Jim was safely out of reach, and the little 
pile of cord-wood was passed and repassed many 
times, without exciting the faintest suspicion. 

While the officers were searching the island, and 
cursing their hard luck, Guyon was recovering from 
the effects of his long swim. As soon as he was 
able to walk, he made for a clump of woods, which 
he entered, and was soon lost to sight in the 
thicket. The first thing to be done was to dry his 
clothes, which by sundown he had accomplished, 
and then, barefooted as he was, he started to walk 
nine miles back from the river, to a village where 
he had a friend. 

He walked all night, the latter part of the journey 
being accomplished in terrible agony. The s sharp 
stones had cut and bruised his feet dreadfully^nd, 


CAP HALL MISSES HIS ROUND-UP 


7 3 


when he reached his destination, he could not have 
put a boot on for a fortune. 

His friend was an ex-burglar, who, having made 
a lucky haul and escaped detection, had bought a 
farm with the proceeds, married a wife, and settled 
down. Jim had sense enough to make up a good 
story to account for his condition, and was kindly 
treated for several days ; in fact, until the weekly 
paper found its way into the house. Unfortu¬ 
nately for Jim, in it was an account of Hall’s exploit; 
so the farmer, taking Guyon aside, said: 

“ You had oughter told me you was in trouble, 
Jim; I’d ’a helped you out. But you see for your¬ 
self, you can’t stay here. None of the neighbor 
folks around knows anything about my past life, and 
I got kids growing up that I want to leave an honest 
name to. Now, if you get ketcked in my place, the 
cops’ll give away my record.” 

“ You’re right, old man,” said Jim. “ You’ve 
treated me right; I’m going to do the square thing 
by you; I’ll leave to-night.” 

“ If you want money, or anything, I have a 
hundred to spare, and welcome,” said the ex¬ 
burglar, kindly; “ but you see how it is with the 
wife and kids, don’t you? ” 

“ Surely — much obliged for the offer of 
money, but I have a couple of centuries in my 
sock. The only thing I’ll ask you to do is to go to 
the store and get me a suit of duds, and a pair of 
shoes — then I’m fixed.” 

The clothes were brought to him, and that night 
Jim Guyon was on his way to the timber woods of 


74 


THE CONIACKERS 


the Georgian Bay, on Canadian soil, which he 
reached in safety three days later. 

Hall never got so much as a clue as to how he got 
away, or where he went. 

Driggs was brought to trial, and, after the evi¬ 
dence was all in, he was sentenced to ten years at 
Chester (Ill.) penitentiary. 

By behaving himself, and thus making good time, 
he was liberated after doing seven years and six 
months, when he followed his wife, Gerty, to 
Dayton, and, with the money he had put away prior 
to his capture by Uncle Sam’s Boys, he purchased 
a tavern on Homewood avenue, about a mile beyond 
the city limits of Dayton. 


CHAPTER VII. 

A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK. 

DURING all the years Nelse Driggs was in the 
penitentiary, a vigilant lookout was maintained by 
the authorities for Jim Guyon and the re-appear¬ 
ance of the “ Webster-head ” ten dollar counter¬ 
feits. 

Captain Hall, in the discharge of his duty, had 
met his death at the hands of an infuriated woman, 
and had di-ed, like the brave man he was, with his 
boots on. 

But the race of detectives, so well begun in the 
Hall family by himself, did not die with him. At 
the time of the captain’s adventure with Driggs 
and Guyon, there was a “ kid ” who already ranked 



A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


75 


as one of Uncle Sam’s Boys at the early age of 
fourteen. This was Billy Hall, son of the worthy 
captain, of whom the great detective, in his 
fatherly pride, said: 

“ Billy is all wool and a yard wide. He’s as 
bright as a dollar, and true as steel. Mark my 
words, boys, that kid will be catching coniackers 
when lots of other folks won’t know that the woods 
are full of ’em.” 

The great regret of the captain’s life was that 
Jim Guyon (the notorious) had succeeded in slip¬ 
ping through his fingers. 

“ Billy,” he said, frequently, “ I’m liable to be 
* got ’ by one of these fellows most any time; but, if 
anything happens to me, remember that Jim Guyon 
planted his outfit somewhere, and, as soon as Nelse 
gets out of the pen, they’ll go to { shoving ’ the stuff 
again. If you’re in the service, and I am gone, 
don’t forget that I owe Jim one.” 

Billy laughed at the idea of anybody getting the 
drop on the old man, but promised, in case anything 
should happen, to put in his best work to avenge 
what the captain always regarded as the great fail¬ 
ure of his life. 

So when Nelse Driggs got out in ’87, Billy took 
the precaution to look him up and see what busi¬ 
ness he went into. 

In ’88, toward October, rumors began to come in 
from Southern points, that a fine counterfeit was in 
circulation. These rumors were merely vague 
stories at first, and, in spite of all the Treasury men 
could do, they could not lay hands on a specimen 


;6 


THE CONIACKERS 


of the " stuff ” In fact, they did not know the de¬ 
nomination of the bill. 

The “ shovers ” were so shrewd, and the note 
itself so good-looking, that people who had accepted 
it passed it again rather than lose their money by 
confirming their suspicions. The rumors generally 
came from small towns in rural districts, where ten 
dollars is regarded as a small fortune. 

The Treasury did not know it, but, in addition to 
the $1,930 of counterfeit money they had captured 
in 1879, Nelse Driggs had left nearly $40,000 
more in his wife’s possession. This amount, Gerty, 
who was as shrewd as possible, “ planted ” by her 
husband’s orders, there being plenty of good money 
for her to live on and have a good time with. She 
had a “ good time ” too, for she was a bad one all 
the way through. She was the second daughter or 
the notorious Stadtfeldt family, counterfeiters, 
bond-makers and coiners. She was an adept at all 
kinds of crooked business, and, besides that, was 
young and decidedly pretty. She was only twenty- 
five when Driggs, aged seventy, was arrested. 

What the bond of sympathy was between these 
two people, heaven only knows and won’t tell. At 
any rate, as soon as Nelse was “ settled,” Gerty 
started in to have a “ gay time,” and, within a year, 
she had as many lovers as she had fingers and toes. 

Nelse heard of it too. 

“ I don’t care a d-, ” he said, “ what she does 

while I’m up here; but I’ll bet money they can’t 
talk to her when I get out again — not if Isay so.” 

At length the looked-for note reappeared, and a 



A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


77 


number of arrests were made in the South. The 
prisoners were subjected to the most vigorous 
pumping, but Driggs and Guyon had arranged such 
a clever plan for the dissemination of their manu¬ 
facture, that practically nothing could be learned, 
either of the leaders or where the stuff was made. 
Moreover, the notes caught, appeared to be some 
of the old issue made by Driggs and Guyon in 

1879. 

It was at once noticed that every “ shover ” 
arrested, no matter where the offense took place, 
was defended by attorney Septimus Miller, of Day- 
ton, Ohio. This little fact pointed very emphat¬ 
ically to Nelse Driggs, whose home was so close to 
that thriving town. 

At length, Wm. Rheinhart was arrested at Rich¬ 
mond, Virginia, with a clear case against him, and, 
after a preliminary hearing had been waived, the 
trial took place within a few days of the arrest. 

As usual, lawyer Miller turned up, and exhausted 
all his ingenuity in an attempt to quash the indict¬ 
ment. When he found this impossible, he devoted 
all his skill to saving his client on technicalities. 

His address to the jury was so affecting, when 
he referred to the innocent, confiding foreigner, a 
victim of bad men, who had been used as a cat’s- 
paw to pull other people’s chestnuts out of the fire, 
that the jury was dissolved into tears. Without 
leaving the box, they promptly gave Mr. Rheinhart 
five years, probably for being such a fool. 

After the trial was over, a long, lanky gentleman, 
with aquiline features and piercing, dark eyes, who 


78 


THE CONIACKERS 


had been sitting quietly among the spectators, 
walked over to the attorney, and said: 

Excuse me, but that was about the slickest 
address to a jury I ever heard.” 

“Thanks,” replied Miller, “but unfortunately 
they had poor Rheinhart too dead to rights, and 
nothing could have saved him. ” 

He paused to look at the stranger, who nodded 
his head sympathetically. That gentleman appeared 
to be about forty-four years of age, and, though 
lank, was strongly built, weighing perhaps 180 
pounds. He wore a black mustache and goatee, 
and his hair hung in long curls down his back, a la 
Buffalo Bill. He was dressed like a wealthy ranch¬ 
man from the far West, and had an air of dash and 
vim about him, which, in addition to his pleasing 
address, made him a very pleasant fellow to talk to. 

“ Looks like Bill Cody,” was lawyer Miller’s 
mental comment, as he rapidly absorbed these 
details. 

“ Yes,” continued the stranger, who stood the 
attorney’s scrutiny without the quiver of an eyelash; 
“ I like your style, re —markably. Now I have a 
little business that wants a smart man, who not 
only knows law, but can talk to a jury, and, if you 
are open for an engagement, I’d like to talk to you 
awhile.” 

Scenting a good, round fee, Miller eagerly replied: 

“ Come over to the hotel with me, and I’ll see 
what I can do for you.” 

“ Right you are,” answered the stranger; “ I ex¬ 
pect we’ll be able to do some business together. 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


79 


We can have a nice little bottle of Mumm and a 
good cigar in your room, I suppose? You see, 
when I take anything, it’s usually about this 
time.” 

“ Sure,” answered Miller, who was certain that 
any man who talked so lightly about Mumm and 
fine cigars must be tolerably well “ heeled.” 

Arrived at the hotel, the wine bubbling in the 
glasses, and the aromatic blue smoke from two fine 
Havanas pervading the atmosphere, Miller opened 
the conversation by saying: 

“ Well, here’s to you, Mr. -?” 

“ Bell,” replied the stranger. 

“ Glad to know you,” responded Miller, as he 
clinked glasses with his new client. 

“ Now, sir,” he continued, after they had drunk, 
and the stranger had refilled the glasses, “what can 
I do for you? ” 

“ Several things if you will,” answered Mr. Bell, 
smiling, and showing a glimpse of a fine set of 
teeth. “ In the first place, I am a good deal inter¬ 
ested in that poor fellow Rheinhart, and I’d like 
you to tell me all you know about him.” 

“ Nothing, except in a professional way, and that 
of course is sacred between attorney and client. I 
was employed to defend him and did all I could in 
his interests, that’s all. ” 

“ Who employed you? ” 

The attorney grew uneasy at this question, and 
began to shift around on his chair. Finally he put 
down the wine he had been about to raise to his 
lips, and, as he did so, replied: 



8 o 


THE CONIACKERS 




“ Why, Rheinhart, to be sure. What made you 
ask? ” 

“ You live in Dayton, Ohio, I believe/’ said the 
stranger, ignoring the question. “ Did he write to 
you and ask you to come all the way down to Rich¬ 
mond? ” he continued. 

“Who are you?” demanded Miller, springing 
excitedly to his feet. 

The stranger looked at him for a moment with a 
quiet, tantalizing smile on his face, and then said: 

“ I am John S. Bell, Chief of the United States 
Secret Detectives, and I have you dead to rights, 
Mr. Miller.” 

Miller threw his exquisite cigar despairingly inta 
the cuspidor, and sank back in his chair with a 
groan. Then, quickly recovering himself, he said: 

“ I’ll admit this is a horse on me, but, when you 
talk about having people ‘ dead to rights,’ you 
imply that'they have been guilty of some crime 
against the government. ” 

“ Exactly,” replied the chief, laconically, prefer¬ 
ring to let the other man do the talking. 

“ Well, you are wrong. I have done nothing 
but what my position as an attorney demands. I 
have defended several persons accused of uttering 
false money.” 

“ Now, Mr. Miller,” began the chief, “ you are a 
young man, and a brilliant young man. When I 
complimented you on your defense of Rheinhart, 
I was thoroughly in earnest. But you jump too 
hastily to conclusions. As I said before, I have 
you dead to rights, and I am right sorry for it. I 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 81 

hate to see a bright young man like you spoiling 
himself by his own folly, just as a career of honor, 
and, doubtless, wealth is opening up to him.” 

“ You are a smooth talker, Mr. Bell; but, if you 
will pardon my egotism, I believe I know a little — 
ever so little — more law than you do. You may 
depend upon it, I fully understand an attorney’s 
privileges.” 

“ I believe you when you say you know more 
law than I do,” answered the chief; “ that is, gen¬ 
eral law. But, when it comes down to this specific 
instance, I will guarantee that I can give you ten 
years in Chester. I’ll stake my reputation on that, 
and my reputation is something I am rather proud 
of.” 

Miller sat perfectly quiet for a few minutes, and 
the chief resumed: 

“ Have another cigar, Miller. We might as well 
be sociable; for I know we will part good friends.” 

Miller lighted the tobacco, and, after doing so, 
said: 

“ I suppose you have no objection to telling me 
what you want? ” 

“ I have already told you a part,” answered the 
chief; “ but, as you ask, I will tell you briefly the 
whole business. I want to know all you know 
about the people who are making and 4 shoving ’ 
these things.” 

As he spoke, he tossed one of the counterfeits 
over to Miller. The latter took it and turned it 
over, looked at it closely, and then said: 


The Coniackers 6 


82 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ Well, that’s all right, isn’t it?” 

Again the quiet, amused smile showed for an 
instant in the chief’s eyes, as he inquired: 

“ Who employed you ? ” 

“ That is my business, and none of yours. ” 

“ Oh, yes, it is. We are very much interested 
in finding out—Uncle Sam and I.” 

“ Well, so far as I know, there is nothing in the 
statutory or common law to prevent you — if you 
can,” returned Miller, saucily. 

“ Oh, we can,” answered the chief; “ don’t you 
fret about Uncle Sam and me. But I’d like to 
hear it from you. Now I want you to tell me.” 

“ And I don’t want to tell you.” 

“ You’ve got to, that’s all.” 

“ If I say I won’t ? ” 

“ You won’t be so foolish.” 

“ But if I do?” 

“ I’ll have to act on that,” and the chief, select¬ 
ing one from the numerous documents in his big 
pocket-book, tossed it to the too secretive attor¬ 
ney. 

Miller caught it, and, as he glanced over the 
paper, and saw that it was a United States warrant 
for his arrest on the charge of conspiring with 
others to defraud the general government by 
making, printing, issuing and uttering counterfeit 
money, his face turned deadly pale, and for a 
minute or two he sat like a wooden man, unable 
to move. 

“ You can’t prove any one of these charges,” 
he gasped, at last. 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


83 


“ Can’t we ? queried the chief, in his quiet, 
almost lazy way;” “ well see about that! For 
instance, you were retained by Nelse Driggs in 
every one of these cases. The tavern on Home- 
wood avenue knows no more frequent visitor than 
Septimus Miller. Jim Guyon is in Cincinnati, and 
has been there for some time-.” 

“That’ll do,” interrupted Miller, “ I don’t believe 
you could convict me, or you would not attempt 
to make me ‘ squeal.’ But you hold cards enough 
to make it all-fired interesting for me. I throw up 
my hands — Nelse Driggs did hire me.” 

“ Mr. Miller, I congratulate you on your good 
sense. Now I’m not going to tell you any more 
of what I know, but, if you give me any crooked 
tips, I warn you in advance that I shall be com¬ 
pelled to call your bluff by acting on this thing at 
once.” 

The chief was in high good humor during the 
remainder of this interesting interview, which it 
would spoil our story to relate in detail. The fact 
is that Miller told all he knew, and he had actually 
“ weakened ” on a good hard bluff, for when the 
chief said he knew that Guyon was in Cincinnati 
he was only guessing, but that was the little point 
which convinced Miller that he had better make a 
clean breast of it. 

He still protested that he only “ suspected ” that 
Guyon was in communication with Driggs, and that 
they were “ handling” the counterfeit notes. At 
the same time, he expressed his willingness to in¬ 
troduce a secret service man to one of the “ shov- 



84 


THE CONIACKERS 


ers,” who, if properly worked, would lead to the 
conviction of the principals, whoever they were. 
Mr. Miller was too “ foxy ” to admit any guilty 
knowledge of Driggs and Guyon. 

A few days later, officer William Congdon, a 
man with a frail body, but the heart of a lion, met 
Mr. Septimus Miller by appointment at Shelby- 
ville, Indiana. 

Miller was there to defend a member of the ccni- 
acking gang, who had been arrested with his mis¬ 
tress, Kittie Hoyt, for horse stealing. 

This fellow’s name was Sam Rivers, a most 
notorious desperado. Among his many accom¬ 
plishments were counterfeiting, coining, burglary, 
horse stealing and murder. In spite of his record, 
for he had already seen the inside of many a prison, 
and through a misdirection of justice, he had barely 
escaped dangling at the end of a rope, the scoun¬ 
drel actually secured a $4,000 bond and was en¬ 
joying the run of the street when his attorney, 
Miller, arrived from Dayton. 

“ Who bailed you? ” asked the *awyer: 

“ Oh, a friend of mine — Banker Robertson.” 

“Robertson?” exclaimed Miller, in astonish¬ 
ment, “ why, he’s deacon in the church, Sunday- 
school teacher-” 

“ And under my thumb,” concluded Rivers, with 
a grin. 

“ He’s had funny dealings with me,” he con¬ 
tinued, “ and, if I’d wanted it, he’d have got Kittie 
out too.” 

What bond held this contemptible, sneaking 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


85 


hypocrite in the power of a man, who, if such a 
thing is ever justifiable, richly deserved lynching ? 
Well — there were a good many “ Webster heads” 
floating about that part of Indiana — and some¬ 
times there is a pretty good “ rake-off” for the 
man who doesn’t look too closely at the money 
passing in and out of his bank. That’s all ! 

“ Why don’t you want Kitty out ? ” 

“ I’ve got a new mash. Kitty’s getting too old 
and independent, anyway — I want her to go over 
the road. ” 

The cold-blooded villain got his wish, for Kate 
Hoyt was promptly sentenced to nine years for 
horse stealing, thus putting a fitting climax to a 
sensationally notorious career. 

After talking over the horse stealing case, and 
arranging grounds for a continuance, Miller said : 

“ I have a friend here, Sam. He’s a corking 
good fellow, a * gam ’ and all around sport from 
Troy. His name is Conolly—Mike Conolly — I 
guess you’ve heard of him.” 

“ Seems to me I have,” replied Rivers. “ Is he 
the man that jumped into Chicago one night and 
did Hankins’ game up for $4,200? ” 

“ Same party,” said the lawyer. “ Well, Mike has 
been following the races, and went broke against 
the short ones. He’s ripping good company, even 
if he is dead broke.” 

“ If he’s a game man he won’t be broke long,” 
answered Rivers, “ the right sort don’t have to 
stay broke, see? ” 

The lawyer, it is to be presumed “ saw,” for that 


86 


THE CONIACKERS 


night he introduced Congdon under the name of 
Mike Conolly, and after a drink or two they went 
around to see as much of the “ elephant ” as holds 
forth in Shelbyville, which, to quote Mr. Congdon, 
is “ right considerable smart of a bit.” 

Among other places they visited, was a quiet 
little poker game. The lawyer obligingly “ staked ” 
Congdon (with Congdon’s own money), and the 
three of them “ sat in ” with three strangers. 

Somehow or other, Congdon could not let a 
“ pot ” pass him. Every time the stakes were 
worth having, he scooped them into his inside 
pocket with an easy nonchalance that astonished 
Sam Rivers. 

One time, when Sam heid three aces, Congdon 
drew one card, and Rivers two. Everybody else 
dropped out after a round or two, and a lively con¬ 
test ensued between the outlaw and the detective. 
At it they went, hammer and tongs, for not only 
did Rivers suspect “ Mike ” of bluffing, but he had 
filled his aces with a pair of kings in the draw. 
There was fifty-one dollars in the pot altogether, 
and it was Sam’s bet. 

“ I’ll raise you twenty.” 

“ Lend me some stuff, Miller,” said the officer, 
“ and I’ll clean our friend out.” 

Miller handed him his wallet. 

“ Now,” said Congdon, “ I’ll see your twenty, 
and raise you twenty-five.” 

Rivers grinned as he threw four of the queer 
tens, along with two good fives, on the table, and 
remarked: 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 87 

“ That’s pretty nigh my last stake"— I raise you 
another twenty-five. ” 

“ I’ll go you twenty-five better,” returned Cong- 
don, without moving a muscle. 

Again two of the queer ones and a good five 
went into the pot: 

“ I’ll call you, you bluffer, and see what kind of 
a hand you think is worth more than two hundred 
cold simoleons. ” 

“ I’ve got a little flush of hearts,” saidCongdon, 
laying down his hand. 

“ Then I scoop you,” said Rivers, exhibiting his 
ace full on kings, as he reached for the money. 

“ Hold on,” remarked Congdon quietly, as he 
put his hand on the pot, “ my flush runs 5,6, 7, 8, 9 
— look at ’em for yourself.” 

Rivers relinquished his claim to the stakes with 
a curse, and, turning to the detective, said: 

11 I say, party, you’re too smooth for me, and I 
thought I was a kind of a chilly duck at this busi¬ 
ness myself. I’ll give you a cool hundred if you 
show me how you hold that thing out.” 

“ Did you see me hold anything out? ” inquired 
Congdon, as he returned the money he had pre¬ 
tended to borrow from Miller. 

“ No; I didn’t see nothin’wrong,” replied Rivers 
hastily, who, though he believed himself cheated, 
saw that he had made a wrong play. 

“ That’s all right,” said Congdon, graciously. 
“ Come with me now, and you’ll wear diamonds.” 

Sam Rivers did not sleep well that night. If 
there was any thing in the world he hated, it was to 


88 


THE CONIACKERS 


give up good money, and the officer had relieved 
him of about $175 in the “ long green,” which made 
the coniacker sore. “ I must get that good stuff 
back,” he thought, “but not by ‘poke’ — that 
rooster makes me shy. I guess I’ll have to load 
him with the * short green.’” 

They met again in the afternoon, and, after a 
game of pool, in which Congdon got the worst of 
it, dropping ten dollars, Miller said he had 
some business to attend to and left the officer and 
the coniacker together. 

After chatting on indifferent subjects for a while, 
Rivers said: 

“ What did you do with that stuff you robbed 
me of last night? ” 

The detective laughed good naturedly as he re¬ 
plied: 

“ I have most of it in my pocket now. I tell you 
what it is, party, I never needed a haul so much in 
my life. I was flat broke.” 

“ Well, there ain’t any need for a smart man 
like you to go broke,” said Rivers, earnestly; “ I 
can show you a game that you can’t help winning 
at, even when you lose.” 

“ Yes you can,” answered Congdon, incredu¬ 
lously. 

“ On the dead,” protested Rivers. “ I suppose 
you are fly enough to know that all isn’t gold that 
glitters. ” 

“ I should remark.” 

“ Well, and all isn’t good stuff that looks like it. 
Come on up to my room till I show you something. ” 


A CHIP QF THE OLD BLOCK 


89 


When they got inside the room, Rivers care¬ 
fully closed the transom, locked the door, and 
then, placing a couple of chairs near the window, 
said: 

“ Sit down.” 

The detective did so. 

“ Now, where’s your pile,” continued the coni- 
acker. 

“ I have several dollars in my inside pocket,” 
sang Congdon, softly drawing out his roll of money. 

“ Now count it carefully,” said Rivers. 

The detective did so. “ Two hundred and fif¬ 
teen,” he said, when he got through. 

“ All good stuff ? ” asked Rivers. 

“ You bet your bottom dollar it is — as good as 
the wheat.” returned Congdon, apparently sur¬ 
prised at the question. 

“ Well, it ain’t,’’said Rivers, with a strong stress 
on the “ ain’t.” 

“ And why ain’t it? ” asked Congdon, still incred¬ 
ulous. 

“ Because one of the gang we played with 
last night is ‘ shoving the queer.’ He worked some 
of it into the game, and you got it.” 

“ Come off,” said the officer, inspecting the bills 
again. 

“No ‘come off’ about it,” asserted Rivers; 
“ give me that roll, and I’ll pick ’em out for you.” 
He took the roll and selected four of the “ Webster 
heads,” which he handed back to the officer. 

After pretending to examine them critically, 
Congdon said: 



90 


THE CONIACKERS 


m 


“ I’ll bet you a hundred to forty that these are as 
good as Jay Gould’s bank account.” 

“ If I wasn’t a friend of yours, I’d take you up 
and beat you,” answered Rivers, delighted that 
“ Conolly ” was so well pleased with his “ goods.” 

“ Well,” said the officer, “ if they are queer and 
I can make a dicker with your friend, I’ll guarantee 
that I’ll be a rich man mighty quick. I’m as well 
used to looking at money as most people, and all I 
have to say is, that the paper’s right, the color’s 
right, the feel’s right, and the engraving is perfect.” 

“It’s risky business { shoving ’ it,” said Rivers, 
with a shake of his head. 

“ Not to a man with brains in his nut,” replied 
the officer. “ At faro banks, race tracks, saloons — 
in fact, any place where there’s a crowd, a bright 
fellow ought to be able to change from fifty to two 
hundred dollars in this stuff, and skip quick enough 
never to be caught. I could do it! Say, will you 
introduce me to your friend? ” 

“ You bet I will,” returned Sam. " Allow me 
to introduce the identical party. ” 

“ What! you? Well, I’ll be jiggered! ” 

“ Yes, me. That’s my long suit, getting rid of 
this paper; and for all the thousands of dollars I’ve 
put out, I’ve never got into trouble once. Why, 
I put a lot of ’em into a bank here, and nobody 
ever got onto it.” 

“ What do they cost? ” was Congdon’s next 
question. 

“ Thirty-three cents on the dollar,” replied Riv¬ 


ers. 


SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE gi 

“Then, I’ll take $117 worth right now, if you 
have them handy,” said Congdon, counting out the 
money. 

The transfer was quickly made, and that night 
the officer left Shelbyville to go to St. Louis and 
“ get rid of the money,” according to his story. 
It was arranged that, if everything went well, he 
should return in a week for more. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“ SHADOW ” AND SUBSTANCE. 

On the 23d of April, Officer William Hall, the 
M Chip of the Old Block,” as he was called by all 
old Uncle Sam’s Boys, went to Dayton to watch 
Driggs and his wife, and keep a sharp lookout for 
Guyon, who was supposed to be in the neighbor¬ 
hood. 

It was not long before he made himself quite at 
home around Driggs’ road house, stopping there 
two or three times a week to get a drink, and chat 
with the innocent-looking old man. Driggs, in 
his young days, had bought produce from the 
farmers around southern Ohio, and even then was 
engaged in “ shoving the queer,” by inserting a 
few bad bills into every payment he made for grain, 
stock, fruit, or what not. 

He had always been shrewd enough to keep out 
of Uncle Sam’s clutches until the episode of ’79, 
and apparently, butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, 
when “ Billy the Chip ” made his acquaintance. 



92 


THE CONIACKERS 


Hall was supposed to be a book agent, and many 
a funny story was told by him in Driggs’ bar-room. 
When the laughing time came, Gerty was usually 
on hand, and joined in as heartily as anybody. 
Apparently nothing could shock her modesty very 
rudely, and in fact she sometimes told a yarn herself 
with a decidedly Frenchy flavor about it. 

Billy stuck to his watch, and succeeded in shad¬ 
owing old man Driggs to Cincinnati, whither he 
went to meet Jim Guyon, who had a room at 182 
John street. He also found that Gerty did a great 
amount of visiting, being gone two or three days 
at a time, off and on, until the end of June. 
Another discovery the astute young detective 
made, though this was already suspected, was that 
Gerty had a lover in the person of Septimus Miller, 
the old man’s attorney, and that some of her fre¬ 
quent visits to sell “green goods,” or get rid of 
them in other ways, were made for the purpose of 
having a “ high old time ” with her lover. 

Meanwhile Congdon was playing Rivers in ex¬ 
cellent style. He bought several batches of the 
counterfeits, which were at once turned over to the 
department, and Rivers declared that he was the 
quickest and best operator he had ever seen. 

Little did Sam Rivers suspect, when Congdon 
was supposed to be away on a “ shoving ” expedi¬ 
tion, that his “ gam ” friend was watching him day 
and night to find out how he received his supply, 
and who brought it to him. The chief suspected 
that Guyon, much changed in appearance, was the 
go-between, so Congdon spent many and many a 


SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 


93 


night exposed to all kinds of weather, in watching 
for the notorious counterfeiter’s appearance on the 
scene. 

After one of his “ trips,” and when Rivers’ con¬ 
fidence in him was absolute, Congdon said: 

“ Where do you get this elegant stuff from? ” 

“ That would be telling,” replied Rivers. 

“ Well, you don’t need to be so stiff about it with 
a pal like me,” said Congdon; “ I guess I’m about 
as deep in it as anybody.” 

“ I was only fooling,” returned Rivers. “ I 
thought I told you. I get it at Dayton, from old 
man Driggs. Ever hear of him? ” 

“ Never did,” said Congdon, unblushingly. 

“ Well, he’s the boss coniacker of this country,” 
said Rivers; “ and never got legged but once. But 
I’m just about out of the * greens ’ now, so I’ve 
written for him to send me some on. I guess it’ll 
be here to-night. ” 

“ If it don’t come? ” 

“ I’ll have to go after it. Say, I’ll take you with 
me if you like, and introduce you to the old man 
and his woman. If you get * solid ’ with her, you 
can have the earth. ” 

This suited Congdon exactly. The constant 
exposure had settled a terrible cold on his lungs, 
and, as his chest had never been strong, he was 
beginning to get a little bit frightened. He coughed 
and coughed, but all the doctoring he could do 
brought no relief, for the night air and want of rest 
undid it all before the medicine could do its work. 
Now, this opening promised to wind the matter up 


94 


THE CONIACKERS 


quickly, and then he intended to treat himself to a 
good long rest. 

That night he parted with Sam Rivers early. 
Rivers said he had to meet a friend, and declined 
company. 

“ Why? Are you afraid of me? ” asked Congdon, 
somewhat indignantly. 

“ No, I’m not; but, if Jim Guyon comes, hell raise 

h-. He’s the scaredest man you ever saw of 

being pinched.” 

“ All right, then, I’ll go to bed,” said Congdon; 
“ good night.” 

“ Good night, old pard,” returned Rivers; “ I’m 
sorry I can’t have your company, but you see how 
I’m fixed.” 

Instead of going to bed, Congdon wired Chief 
Bell the following message: 

“ G. comes here to-night. If not, leave for D. 
with R. to-morrow to meet the whole party. Stuck 
on me. “ C. ” 

This he sent through without using the cipher, 
as the young lady operator was known to be “ all 
right. ” 

Then he posted himself to wait for Rivers. 

For two mortal hours he waited in the cold, and 
at midnight it began to rain, freezing as it fell. In 
fact, it was just the vilest night in all the villainous 
month of April. 

At 1:15, Rivers, wrapped up in a big rain coat, 
with his slouch hat pulled down over his eyes, 
came out of the “ tough ” boarding house where he 



SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 


95 


was stopping, and walked briskly, not toward the 
railway, as Congdon expected, but to a clump of 
timber at the far end of the town. 

Numbed through, and wet to the skin, Congdon 
followed as best he could. 

When Rivers arrived at the woods, he paused for 
a moment as if to take his bearings, and then 
plunged into the darkness by a little foot-path. 
Like a blood-hound, Congdon was hot on his 
trail. 

After a difficult walk of about ten minutes, 
Congdon could no longer hear his man in front 
of him, he having been guided entirely by the 
sound. 

Where was he ? What was he doing ? Why 
had he stopped ? Did he suspect himself shad¬ 
owed ? 

All these questions presented themselves to the 
brave detective, as he stood a few feet from the 
path behind a large tree, listening. Bending 
forward, he made an attempt to peer into the 
darkness, but it was as black as the hinges of mid¬ 
night, and he could distinguish nothing. 

With the utmost caution he found the path again, 
and slowly followed it for about ten or fifteen 
yards. Then he stepped on a rotten branch, which 
snapped with a loud report beneath his feet. 

As he glided rapidly beneath the dense shadows 
of the trees, he heard a low whistle a short distance 
up the path. The sound was muffled at first, but 
presently it grew distinct, and a moment later 
Rivers came down the path. 


9 6 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ I’ll swear I heard a noise,” he grumbled to 
himself as he came; “ who the devil was it ? ” 

He paused and repeated the whistle ; then, re¬ 
ceiving no answer, he moved forward again. 

“ Oh,” he said, apparently much satisfied, “ I 
guess this branch must have fallen from the tree. 
That’s what I heard.” 

Then he returned up the path, with the detective 
not five yards behind him. 

A minute later the reason of his stoppage was 
made clear. Surrounded by second-growth timber 
and dense brush, stood the ruin of a log-cabin. It 
had been the home of a settler, years before, who 
was murdered ere he had cleared an acre of ground, 
and, owing to this tragedy, no one had cared about 
occupying his cabin since. 

Sam Rivers did not mind a little thing like that, 
though, so, plunging into the brush, he made his 
way to the cabin. 

At this moment the rain stopped, and, by the aid 
of a faint glow from the sky, Congdon was enabled to 
vaguely see the house, and Rivers making for it. 

The weather, after the rain ceased, became sud¬ 
denly cold, and Congdon stood there in his wet 
clothes watching the cabin, until Rivers, cursing 
even more horribly than “ our army in Flanders,” 
strode through the brush at five o’clock in the 
morning, and back by the pathway to the high 
road. 

Guyon, for some reason, had failed to appear, to 
the bitter disappointment of poor Congdon, who, 
staggering like a drunken man, from the combined 


SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 


97 


effects of his chilling and the low state of his vitality 
resulting from his illness, tottered back to his hotel, 
how he does not know to this day. 

That night’s work nearly cost him his life, for the 
next day he had to take to his bed, and was unable 
to accompany Rivers to Dayton. 

The chagrin of his unfortunate failure, combined 
with the wetting he had got, brought on a bad attack 
of bleeding at the lungs, and the poor fellow had to 
go home to Troy as soon as he could be moved, a 
victim to that dread scourge — consumption. 

Chief Bell was disgusted at thus failing at the 
very moment of success, for of course it was im¬ 
possible to gain Sam Rivers’ confidence a second 
time. He was too suspicious a man, and would 
scent the “ lay ” in a minute. 

Therefore, Rivers being impracticable, a number 
of other “ shovers ” with whom Congdon had come 
in contact during his experience in Indiana, were 
promptly collared, and Rivers, though allowed to 
remain at large, was constantly shadowed. 

As these men have nothing to do with our story, 
their names may as well be given here. 

Mort Howell, arrested at Rushville, got five years; 
Bob Howery, “ pinched ” with him, took two years 
on a plea of guilty. Lon Barrett, arrested while 
loading up the bookmakers at Terre Haute race 
track, pleaded guilty, and was given two years, 
for which mercy he profusely thanked the Fed¬ 
eral judge, and declared that, when he had served 
his time, he would keep away from crooked money. 


The Coniackers 7 


98 


THE CONIACKERS 


Chief Bell was not the man to sit down quietly 
under defeat. Of course, you may know that a 
man is breaking the law, that is one thing; to give 
a jury legal proof that he is a malefactor, is quite 
a different matter. The chief knew that Nelse 
Driggs and Jim Guyon were the men he wanted, 
but he absolutely had no case to go into court with. 

In this critical position of affairs, he determined 
to jump right into the job himself; so, calling Offi¬ 
cer Donello into consultation, an elaborate plan 
was laid, by which Bell and Donello should work 
Driggs from the inside, while Billy Hall should take 
care of him from the outside. 

Accordingly, the two officers surprised attorney 
Miller one fine morning, in his office at Dayton, 
and, after shaking hands, the chief said : 

“ Mr. Miller, this is my friend, Billy Myers, of 
Pittsburg and Wheeling. Billy’s long suit is ‘ bank,’ 
'poke,’and other eccentricities with the red, white, 
and blue chips. ” 

“ Happy to meet you,” said Miller, shaking 
hands. 

“ Billy,” resumed the chief, with a twinkle in his 
dark eyes, “ Billy wants to be introduced to those 
friends of yours out on Homewood avenue. He 
thinks he could use some of the things they make 
in his business.” 

“ And you want me to introduce him? Well, I 
won’t do it — that’s flat. I’m not going to put Gerty 
in the ‘ pen,’ and you don’t need to ask me to.” 

“ Now, Mr. Miller,” said the chief, persuasively, 
u do be reasonable. Who said a word about Gerty ? 


SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 


99 


We want the old man and his partner. I’m sure 
you ought to feel very much obliged to us for get¬ 
ting the old scoundrel out of your road, and leaving 
you a clear field for Gerty’s favors.” 

“ Will you guarantee that she won’t be 1 pinched,’ 
no matter what you may find out? ” asked Miller, 
eagerly. 

After a moment’s thought, Bell replied : 

“ That isn’t reasonable, Miller. I’m a govern¬ 
ment officer, under oath to do certain things. Now, 
I might find out that your fair friend is guilty of 
murder. I couldn’t overlook that, you know. No; 
the best I can say is that I will treat the lady as 
leniently as possible, and let her entirely alone if I 
find such a course consistent with my duty.” 

“ Then, I won’t lift a finger or open my mouth,” 
said Miller, doggedly. 

“ Very well, then,” answered the chief, still 
pleasantly, “ I’ll just have to let Guyon go, and 
arrest the balance of the outfit. You may have 
observed that I generally have a complete case 
before I go into court. I’m sorry to leave Guyon 
out of it, but I can convict the rest of you.” 

“ You mean that you will pinch me? ” 

“ Precisely.” 

“ Then pinch and be d—d to you. ” 

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when 
Donello sprang at him, there was a momentary 
glitter of polished metal, followed by a sharp click, 
and Septimus Miller, attorney, etc., before he had 
time to realize what had happened, stood manacled 


100 


THE CONIACKERS 


in the middle of his own floor, charged with a fel¬ 
ony of the first magnitude. 

Donello’s hand rested lightly but firmly on the 
attorney’s collar, and, as soon as the latter’s first 
surprise had passed, a shudder shook him from 
head to foot. 

Mechanically he lifted his imprisoned hands to 
look at the glittering “ darlings,” and a haggard, 
horrified expression came into his eyes as his terri¬ 
ble position dawned upon him. There is an inde¬ 
scribable feeling of horror in the first touch of a 
pair of handcuffs which never fails to affect even 
old campaigners — fellows who have worn the 
bracelets any number of times. To the man whose 
wrists are embraced by them for the first time, the 
effect is not unlike that of an electric shock. 

“ Well? ” said the chief, after giving the lawyer a 
few minutes for pious reflection. 

Miller did not look up. His face was deathly 
pale, and his eyes, after that one glance at the 
handcuffs, were kept riveted to the floor. He did 
not reply to the chief’s interrogation, which, though 
brief, covered the whole ground. 

“ Well, Miller,” said the chief again, still quietly. 

This time the prisoner raised his head, and, after 
a frightened glance toward the door, as if he 
dreaded the unexpected entrance of some friend 
who might discover his predicament, he said : 

" For God’s sake, take these cursed things off.” 

“ Are you open to reason? ” asked the chief. 

" Yes,” replied Miller, in a low voice, hanging 
his head again. 


SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 


IOI 


“ Now,” said Bell, after the hideous “ bijouterie ” 
had been unlocked and restored to Donello’s 
pocket, “ I am willing to treat you a good deal 
better than you treated me. I will make you a 
proposition.” 

“ Name it,” said Miller, who had sunk into his 
office chair and buried his face in his hands. 
Donello slipped to the door and turned the key in 
the lock. 

“ If you will loyally work with the government 
you have wronged, and assist in every way in your 
power to bring the leaders of this conspiracy to 
justice, the government will not call you as a wit¬ 
ness, and will forget all about any connection you 
have had with the case. Moreover, when the trap 
is sprung and the details of this capture (for we 
are bound to get them) are given to the world, 
your name shall be kept out of the newspapers. ” 

“ The terms are satisfactory — even generous;” 
replied Miller, “ but about Gerty, don’t forget that 
we love each other, and that through her confi¬ 
dence in me alone, this thing can be worked.” 

Blinking, for the moment, at the obliquity of 
moral vision which could see in his adulterous 
liaison with this woman extenuation for a connec¬ 
tion with the gang of coniackers, Chief Bell replied: 

“ I have said as far as I can in that matter. If 
I find it possible to leave her out of the indict¬ 
ment I will do so, but I can’t promise anything 
further.” 

" All right. I’ll accept your offer,” said Miller, 
as if a load had been lifted off his mind. At that 


102 


THE CONIACKERS 


very moment he had determined to get Gerty out 
of the way before the blow fell. 

That evening, at about eight o’clock, a stylish 
rig drove up to Driggs’ tavern, and two men 
alighted. 

Pretty Gerty Driggs was standing at the door of 
the bar-room, while, behind the counter, her old 
husband was serving a couple of farmers on their 
road home after a day in town. 

Gerty received the lawyer with every demon¬ 
stration of joy. 

“ Come on,” she said, taking him by the hand, 
“ lead the horse around to the shed,” and away 
they walked together, leaving Donello to admire 
the sunset by himself. 

“ Who is that sport? ” asked Gerty, as, still hold¬ 
ing Miller’s hand, she walked with him toward 
the driving shed. 

“That’s Billy Myers, a 'gam’ from Pittsburg,” 
answered Miller; “ he’s the right sort too.” 

“ What is he after, Baby,” continued Gerty, ad¬ 
dressing her lover by his pet name. 

“ He has seen some of the stuff, and wants to 
make a dicker for a small lot to try how it goes. 
If he succeeds, he’ll want lots more.” 

“ I feel a little scary of strangers,” said Gerty, 
pausing; “ but, if you recommend him, Baby, I 
guess he’s all right.” 

Shortly afterward, when the rig had been 
handed over to Paddy, the hostler, Gerty and her 
lover returned to the tavern, where Donello was 
formally introduced. 


SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 


103 


Donello was a particularly handsome man, of the 
swarthy type. His hair and eyes were black; his 
eyebrows and long, drooping mustache black; his 
skin a clear, deep olive, through which the rich 
glow of health showed with a bright though dusky 
crimson. He had a decidedly Southern accent, and 
evidently made rather more than a favorable im¬ 
pression on Gerty, who was peculiarly susceptible 
to manly beauty. 

“ He looks like a Spaniard, Baby,” she whispered 
to Miller, “and he’s pretty enough to steal.” 

“ Don’t try to make me jealous, Gerty,” replied 
Miller, in a low tone, “ for, if you do, you’ll be sorry 
for it.” 

Gerty glanced into the lawyer’s steely blue eyes, 
and saw that he was in deadly earnest, That was 
quite enough. Forbid a woman anything, and it 
is a safe bet that she will break her neck in striving 
for the forbidden fruit. From that moment Gerty 
made up her mind that “ Billy Myers” should be 
numbered among her conquests if it cost a farm. 

After a few drinks had circulated, Gerty broached 
the subject of his visit to Donello, who had scarcely 
said a word all evening. 

“ Say, * Spaniard,”’ she said, “ what’s come over 
you? Lost your tongue? ” 

“ Oh, no,” answered Donello, his large, melan¬ 
choly eyes lighting up; “I was only thinking.” 

“ What about? ” 

“ You may be angry if I speak my thoughts,” 
returned the detective, who had been fully aware 
of Gerty’s admiring glances. 


104 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ No, I won’t. Speak out.” 

“ Well,” answered Donello slowly, and in a very 
low voice, “ I was just thinking what a lucky devil 
Mr. Driggs is.” This gallant speech was accom¬ 
panied with a languishing glance, and a deep sigh 
which seemed to come straight from the wily de¬ 
tective’s heart. 

Gerty actually made an attempt to blush, and, 
with a little satisfied smile, she quickly turned the 
conversation, when she noticed that Miller was 
watching her closely with a scowl on his brow 
black enough to be the precursor to a storm. 

“ Miller tells me you came here to get some¬ 
thing,” she said, after a pause. 

“ Not a great deal until I see whether I can get 
rid of it,” answered Donello, delighted at such an 
easy opening. 

“ About thirty of them? ” resumed Gerty, as she 
moved her chair a little closer to the handsome 
detective, a fact which did not escape Miller’s jeal¬ 
ous eye. 

“ Yes — that would be enough,” answered Do¬ 
nello; “ when can I get them? ” 

“Are you * fixed ’? ” asked Gerty. 

“ Yes, I’ll take them to-night if you will,” said 
Donello, eager to make the opening move in the 
game he was playing. 

“ Oh, no, not to-night,” said Gerty, hurriedly, 
with another blq,sh and a coquettish downward 
glance; “ come to-morrow afternoon. The .old 
man will be in town,” she added, in a whisper. 

The Spaniard readily agreed to this proposition, 


SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 


105 

as on reflection he remembered that it would be as 
well that Billy Hall should see him enter the house, 
and also examine the counterfeits as soon as he 
left, for corroborative evidence. 

“ Good night, Spaniard,” said Gerty, softly, when 
Donello and the lawyer rose to leave ; “ don’t 
forget your engagement.” 

“ I’ll be on time,” returned Donello, squeezing 
the soft little hand which lay in his. 

When they were again on the road to town 
Miller was sulky. Donello was a silent man by 
nature and training, so the two miles were nearly 
passed before a word was spoken. Then Miller 
said, savagely: 

“ That’s a d—d dirty trick you’re playing me.” 

" What’s that? ” asked Donello, in surprise. 

“ Trying to knock my eye out with Gerty,” the 
lawyer blurted out. 

" You must be slightly off your base,” returned 
the officer, with an amused little laugh; “ I don’t 
want her, and, what’s more, you must be a fool to 
think that, even if I did, I would be so insane as to 
put myself in that little spitfire’s power, in view of 
the work I’m engaged in.” 

Somewhat reassured by this view of the matter, 
Miller grew better tempered, and they parted good 
friends. 

The next afternoon Billy Hall, who was indus¬ 
triously attempting to sell the “ Saint’s Rest ” in 
the vicinity of Driggs’ road house, had very little 
success in selling that exciting work, but he had the 
satisfaction of seeing Donello enter the tavern after 


io6 


THE CONIACKERS 


making a sign to him which meant “ Wait till I 
come out.” 

Gerty, looking very pretty in a pale blue cash- 
mere wrapper, was waiting in the parlor to receive 
him. Old Driggs was, so she told him, in Dayton, 
and the bar was in the temporary charge of old 
Paddy. “ So you keep your engagements 
promptly, Spaniard,” said the siren, making room 
for him beside her on the sofa. 

“ You knew I would, didn’t you, Mrs. Driggs? ” 

“ Oh shoot * Mrs. Driggs ! * why can’t you call me 
Gerty, like the rest of the boys? ” asked the lady, 
impatiently. 

“ Well, Gerty, then,” said Donello, with his 
most “ killing ” glance. 

“That sounds more natural.” After a pause, 
“I like you, Spaniard,” said Gerty, abruptly. 

“ Don’t flatter,” said Donello. 

“ But I do, and I want you to like me.” As she 
said this she slipped her plump little hand into his 
and snuggled closer up to him. At this moment a 
colored woman came to the door and said: 

“ Dey aint no mo’ sta’ch, Miss Driggs, and I clean 
fo’got to tell de bossbefo’ he went down town.” 

Gerty, who had quietly moved away from the 
detective as soon as the fat old cook made her ap¬ 
pearance, was visibly annoyed. 

“ How on earth do you manage to forget things, 
Emma?” 

“ ’Fo’ Gawd, I kain’ tell you, Missy. I didn’ know 
we was out of hit twell I come to use it, and now I 
kain’ go on wid de iunin’ twell I git de sta’ch.” 


SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 


107 


“ Then, tell Pat’s wife to go and get some at the 
grocery,” said Gerty, giving the woman a quarter. 

As soon as Emma was gone, Gerty closed the 
door and locked it. 

“Do you want what you came for now?’’she 
asked, reseating herself in a low rocking-chair, 
which she drew over beside the sofa where the de¬ 
tective sat. 

“ Yes,” replied Donello, '* for I have to get back 
to town pretty quick. I want to catch the six 
o’clock train for Pittsburg.” 

“ You’re in a hurry,” said Gerty, with a meaning 
smile, “ and I guess you’d better wait until it’s over. ” 

“ My time has to suit yours,” replied Donello, 
with equal meaning, but at the same time pulling 
out a roll of bills, from which he counted one hun¬ 
dred dollars in lawful currency. 

Gerty went to the door and listened a moment, 
then to the window, and drew down the blind. 
She next held out her hand for the notes, saying: 

“ Money first, in case of fire.” 

Donello smiled again at this chestnut, and the 
lady counted the money over, put it in her pocket, 
and said: 

“ Supposing you were a detective, do you think 
you could find anything * queer ’ in this house ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” returned the officer, quietly; 
“ never having been a detective, I can’t say.” 

“ Well,” resumed Gerty, “ supposing you had 
searched the house thoroughly and found nothing, 
and then undertook to search me, where would you 
look? ” 


io8 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ I guess,” answered Donello, somewhat embar¬ 
rassed, “I guess I’d look in your pockets — if I 
could find them, and, if there was nothing there, I’d 
try the place where ladies usually hide things.” 

“ My bosom?” asked Gerty, quickly. “ Well, you 
wouldn’t find a thing. Here is my purse.” 

As she said this, she sat down in the rocking- 
chair, drew up her skirts, exhibiting a shapely pair 
of limbs clad in black cashmere stockings. To the 
detective’s astonishment, she slipped off her garter 
and deliberately rolled down her stocking. As 
this operation proceeded, Donello saw that her leg 
was wound around and around with the counter¬ 
feit bills. 

Stripping a number of them off, she pulled up 
that stocking, replacing her garter, giving the 
detective rather more than a glimpse of dainty, 
lace-trimmed lingerie , and then rolled down the 
other stocking, stripping a number of notes from 
that leg and again replacing the stocking and gar¬ 
tering it. 

“That’s my bank,” she said, pointing to her 
limbs, with a laugh. 

“ And a deuced pretty built bank it is,” said 
Donello. Except for this compliment, the detect¬ 
ive was to all appearance as unmoved as a bump 
on a log. 

Gerty then counted the counterfeits, and said: 

" I have drawn a bigger check than I meant to 
— I’ve got thirty-five of them. Never mind, you 
may keep the five extras, and maybe we can even 
up some other time.” 


SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 


109 


“ Thanks/’ said Donello, as he took the roll of 
“ queer” without counting it, and shoved it into his 
pocket. 

“ Must you really go right away ? ” asked Gerty, 
going dangerously close to the officer, and laying 
her hand on his arm, while her hot breath touched 
his cheek as he looked down into her melting eyes. 

At this moment a loud rap at the door inter¬ 
rupted the conversation, and old Driggs called out: 

“Gerty! Gerty!” 

“ All right, Nelse,” answered Gerty, as she sprang 
to the door and unlocked it. As Driggs entered, 
she said : 

“ The Spaniard and I have been doing business, 
so I locked the door, because Emma came in a few 
minutes ago, and I didn’t know who might inter¬ 
rupt us next.” 

Nelse was perfectly satisfied with this explana¬ 
tion, and wanted Donello to wait for supper, but 
the latter explained that he wanted to reach Pitts¬ 
burg at once, to commence operations, and so 
had to decline the invitation. 

After promising to return as soon as the stuff 
was all gone, Donello left the road house and 
walked rapidly toward the electric railway. As 
he jumped on the car, Hall swung himself on beside 
him and asked: “ You don’t want to buy any 
books, I suppose ? ” 

“ No,” answered Donello ; “ I bought all the lit¬ 
erature I needed to-day.” 

Not a word beside this was said ; the book agent 
becoming absorbed in one.of his own books, while 


110 


THE CONIACKERS 


the officer lighted a cigar and went to the rear seat 
to smoke. 

It was well they were careful, for an innocent¬ 
looking country boy, who sat facing them, had 
been posted by Nelse Driggs to wait till the Span¬ 
iard made his appearance at the electric road, and 
watch to see whether he talked to any one or not. 
Concluding that the seeming book agent’s question 
was simply in the way of business, the boy jumped 
off just as the conductor came around for the 
fares, and the two detectives exchanged glances 
which would have given them dead away, even to 
the country youth, had he remained long enough to 
see them. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE YANKEE LAWYER. 

A WEEK passed, and the Spaniard, in a new suit 
of clothes and looking exceedingly prosperous, re¬ 
turned to Dayton, and went direct to the Driggs 
Tavern. 

“ Hello, Spaniard,” said the old man, as Donello 
entered the bar-room, “ how are you feeling ? ” 

“ Good,” said the detective, significantly. 

“ Did you bring anything back ? ” asked old 
Driggs, anxiously. 

For reply, the silent Spaniard nodded his head 
affirmatively, at which intimation the old man’s face 
fell. 

“ Why ? Couldn’t ye get rid of ’em ? ” he 
asked. 



THE YANKEE LAWYER 


III 


“Yes—every one. What I brought back is 
good stuff to buy more/’ was the detective’s re¬ 
assuring reply. At this Driggs said, excitedly: 

“ That’s the talk! I was wonderin’ how a bright 
feller like you could miss floatin’ our beauties. 
Come, have a drink. The best in the house ain’t 
none too good for you.” 

“ I’ll take a beer,” answered Donello, quietly. 

“ Well, ye won’t,” protested Driggs; “ you’ll drink 
a glass of Clicquot with me and Gerty, or you’ll 
drink nothin’. ” 

Going to the foot of the stairs, he called “ Gerty! 
Gerty! the Spaniard’s here.” 

In a minute or two the lady appeared, looking as 
charming as usual, and, taking the detective’s hand, 
she said : 

“ I’m glad to see you back, Spaniard : I was get • 
ting right lonesome for you.” 

“ Hear that, will ye? ” said Driggs, laughing. “ I 
declare my woman’s gettin’ stuck on ye. ” 

All that day Donello stopped around the tavern, 
but, with his usual taciturnity, saying nothing unless 
first spoken to. Gerty was much piqued at this, 
while Driggs was delighted. The officer did not 
even tell any alleged adventures about getting rid 
of the counterfeit bills. He simply said that they 
were all off his hands, and he wanted $500 in 
“ short green ” this time. 

“ There’s a man that’ll grow rich inthis business,” 
said Nelse to Gerty; “ he knows enough to keep his 
mouth shut, and nobody’ll get a hold of any more 
of his affairs than he wants ’em to. Gimme a 


112 


THE CONIACKERS 


silent man for a choice. Grant was a silent man, 
and see what he did.” 

“Yes — refused you a pardon when you were 
sent to Chester.” 

“ I can’t grumble at that. He had no excuse for 
it, and you bet I'd vote for him for president to¬ 
morrow if he was alive and runnin’. ” 

That evening the “ Spaniard ” was again put 
through a course of Gerty’s blandishments in the 
parlor with the door locked, with precisely the 
same result as before. The detective was an ice¬ 
berg, and refused to thaw, even under the tropical 
glances of pretty Gerty Driggs’ dark eyes. At 
length he said : 

“ Well, if you have that stuff handy, here’s the 
collateral, and,” producing a small parcel from his 
coat-tail pocket, “ a couple of trinkets I got for you 
in New York.” 

Gerty opened the parcel, and, with an excla¬ 
mation of delight, found that the present was a pair 
of handsome garters, with butterfly buckles set with 
Rhine stones. They looked simply dazzling in the 
gas-light. 

" Nobody ever gave me anything that pleased 
me half so much ! ” she said. “ But I ain’t going 
to thank you for them.” 

Before the detective could divine her intention, 
she had thrown her arms impulsively about his 
neck and kissed him. 

At this moment Nelse came to the door and 
called, “ Gerty ! ” very softly. 


THE YANKEE LAWYER 


1 13 

“ What is it, Nelse ? ” she asked, going to the 
door and opening it. 

“ Sep Miller’s down-stairs and askin’ for you. 
Most through with this deal ? ” 

“ Yes,” she answered: “ I’ve been trying to talk 
him into $1,000 instead of $500, but I can’t do it. 
I’ll give him the stuff now and be down in a minute. ” 

“ All right,” said Driggs, going down-stairs again 
at once. 

“ There,” she said, going back to the detective, 
who sat on the sofa at the opposite side of the 
room, “ that pestering Sep Miller is here, and I’ll 
have to go right down or he’ll get mad. I think 
you’re real mean.” 

“ What for ? ” asked the detective, innocently. 

“ Well, never you mind, you are,” said Gerty, as 
she produced the counterfeit notes from the same 
place as on the former occasion, but with her back 
turned to the officer this time. 

After she had given Donello the fifty tens, she 
said : 

“ Now I’m going to give you one for luck, but 
you don’t deserve it, you’re so mean. As for those 
garters, they’re just lovely, but I’ve a good mind not 
to let you see them after they’re on.” 

Before Donello had time to assure the lady that 
he didn’t care a continental whether she did or not, 
without knocking, Miller opened the door and en¬ 
tered the room. 

“Hello, Sep!” said Gerty, with that ready 
adaptability to circumstances which was her chief 


The Coniackers 8 


THE CONIACKERS 


114 

characteristic; “ I was just coming down-stairs to 
see you. ” 

Miller’s face was black, but he stifled his temper, 
shook hands with Donello, and then, turning to 
Gerty, said: 

“ Get on your hat and come for a ride, Gerty; 
I’ve got a new mare, and she’s a beauty. ” 

“ All right, Sep, I’ll be ready in a minute, she 
replied, hurrying away to her room to get ready. 

Donello saw them off, and returned immediately 
to Dayton. After that, when he went to the house, 
he did his trading with Driggs himself, who handed 
him over the " queer ” in the bar-room. 

Gerty had gone back on him, and retransferred 
her affections to Miller. 

Toward the middle of May, Donello was obliged 
to relinquish the case on account of the serious ill¬ 
ness of his wife. He had never succeeded in catch¬ 
ing sight of Guyon, and the chief almost began to 
believe that all the notes “shoved” so far had 
been of the ’79 issue. However, though there was 
plenty of evidence to settle Driggs and his wife, he 
was determined that, if Guyon was in the firm, he 
was going to get him. 

John S. Bell was a man without one atom of in¬ 
decision in his whole composition, and his favorite 
mode of action in a dilemma was to seize it by both 
horns. It is not to be understood that he was 
either precipitate or incautious; on the contrary, he 
never made a move without fully weighing both 
sides of the case, but it did not take him a week to 
make up his mind. Within a few hours of receiv- 


THE YANKEE LAWYER 


115 

ing Donello’s letter asking for leave of absence in 
his serious domestic crisis, the necessary permis¬ 
sion had been wired, and the chief himself was 
bowling along toward Connecticut, as fast as the 
night express would take him. 

He arrived in Hartford the following morning 
with his whole plan worked out, even down to the 
smallest detail. 

That was a busy day for him. 

The first move was to look for a vacant office 
suitable for a lawyer, and one was found at 66 State 
street which exactly answered his purpose; so, in 
the name of Andrew McWilliams, he paid a month’s 
rent in advance and took possession. 

One of his men, Officer McManus, was “ hired ” 
as clerk, and to him was intrusted the task of pro¬ 
curing suitable furniture, carpet, desk, tables, book¬ 
case, books and other things, including a type¬ 
writer, to make the place look like the office of a 
prosperous lawyer who had plenty of his client’s 
funds in his hands to loan upon improved real 
property. 

While McManus was chasing around to get the 
necessary articles, his chief went to a sign-writer 
and gave his order for a “ shingle,” which must be 
dry and ready to hang out by that night. 

He next went to a job printer and ordered a 
quantity of letter-heads, envelopes and business 
cards, so that by night he had an elegantly furnished 
office, and above the door hung a modest sign 
which announced that within was to be found — 


THE CONIACKERS 


u 6 


Andrew McWilliams, 

Law Office. 

Money to Loan on First Mortgages. 
Room ii. 


The type-writer came, and Officer McManus im¬ 
proved the shining hours and his English composition 
by writing letters to “ Andrew McWilliams ” on the 
office paper of sundry lawyers, merchants, doctors 
and others, living in various parts of the Eastern 
States, in reference to certain imaginary loans and 
legal matters. These were put into stamped and 
directed envelopes, and inclosed, with instructions 
to mail, in other envelopes, and then dispatched to 
secret service officers all over the country. 

Room 11 was on the third floor, and, as the 
letters, when they arrived, were given to the 
elevator man for delivery, that individual came to 
the conclusion that the new tenant was doing a 
roaring trade, and wondered how many millions 
he had to lend. 

Meanwhile McManus was busy all the time. 
The “ click, click,” of the type-writer was heard 
incessantly from morning till night, and the other 
tenants on that floor remarked to each other what 
a thundering big correspondence this man McWill¬ 
iams must have. They little suspected that the big 
mails which they sometimes saw in the elevator 
were the product of Billy McManus’ tireless energy. 

All kinds of letter clips were hung around the 
office — stuffed full of letters, some in hand and 



THE YANKEE LAWYER 


II7 

others in type-writing, and, in fact, the office seemed 
to be what its sign purported — that of a successful 
investment lawyer. 

As soon as the chief saw that his explicit instruc¬ 
tions were in a fairway to be carried out, and that 
McManus thoroughly grasped the situation, he 
started for Shelbyville,Indiana, arriving there on the 
very morning of the trial of Howell and Howery, 
“ shovers.” That evening, having found out where 
Miller was putting up, he called on the lawyer and 
sent up his card, which read : 


Andrew McWilliams, 

Attorney, &c. 

Office:—Room n, 

66 State Street, Hartford, Conn. 
Money to Loan. Best Rates. 


The bell-boy returned in a few minutes saying 
that Mr. Miller was very tired, and wanted to know 
whether it was anything of much importance. 

“ Of course it’s important, or I wouldn’t be here; 
you go up-stairs, and I’ll go with you,” said the 
chief. 

A few minutes later he knocked on Miller’s door, 
and, on being bidden “ come in,” entered. The 
lawyer was sitting at a table with a couple of open 
law books before him, and appeared to be working 
very hard, indeed. 

“ Why,” he exclaimed, recognizing the chief in¬ 
stantly, “ I didn’t expect you here; you’ll have to 



THE CONIACKERS 


118 

excuse me for some little time, though, for a man 
named McWilliams wants to see me on business.” 

“ Yes, I know all about that. Miller; sit down.” 

“ But this man McWilliams — ” began Miller. 

“ Oh, he’s all right; I’m Mr. McWilliams, lawyer, 
of Hartford, Connecticut.” 

“You? What turn of the cards are you work¬ 
ing now. ” 

“ Same old thing, and you’ve got to help me 
again. ” 

“ That’s all right; I’m perfectly willing this time.” 

“ Hello! A change seems to have come over the 
spirit of your dream. What’s the matter? ” 

Miller looked undecided for half a minute, as if 
he didn’t know whether to talk or keep silent. At 
last he blurted out: 

“ I’m through with Gerty. She is dead gone on 
that man of yours I took to the tavern, and he is 
away on the inside track. Then the double-faced 
huzzy turned around, as soon as she saw that I 
spotted the business and was mad, and tried to 
make me believe I was the only man in the world 
for her, and all that kind of thing. If there is any¬ 
thing I hate, it is a deceitful woman. I have no 
use for Gerty—I tell you that right now. ” 

From Donello’s daily report, the chief knew all 
about Miller’s jealousy, but thought that the trouble 
was all made up between the lawyer and his mis¬ 
tress, as did Gerty herself. She did not suspect 
him of harboring malice on account of her little 
flirtation with “ Billy Myers, the gambler, "alias the 
“ Spaniard.” 


THE YANKEE LAWYER 119 

The upshot of the matter was that Miller fell 
readily into the chiefs plan, and a new story, or 
“ song and dance,” as the lawyer called it, was 
agreed upon between them for the especial benefit 
of cunning old man Driggs and his equally shrewd 
and pretty wife. 

The next day both the coniackers were found 
guilty, and sentenced to two and five years respect¬ 
ively; and in the evening their lawyer returned to 
Dayton. 

He went to the tavern on Homewood avenue as 
soon as he arrived, ostensibly to report to old man 
Driggs — in reality to pave the way for the intro¬ 
duction of the chief of Uncle Sam’s boys, under the 
alias of Lawyer McWilliams, from Hartford. 

Driggs and his wife were both in the bar, and 
alone, when he arrived, and he received his usual 
warm welcome from both of them. After telling 
how impossible it was to get their friends out of the 
law’s clutches, and pointing out how light the sen¬ 
tences were, as compared with what they might 
have been, he said: 

“Well, it can’t be helped; the boys have gone 
over the road, but I have another customer for you 
who can get rid of more stuff in a week than both 
of them together could in a month.” 

“ That’s good news, anyway,” remarked Gerty. 

“ And what is more,” Miller continued, “ it’s in 
a section of country where this stuff hasn’t even 
been heard of yet, let alone seen.” 

“That’s better news,” said Nelson Driggs. 

“ We’ve worked some sections too hard. Now, 


120 


THE CONIACKERS 


my idea of this business is to put two or three good 
people into a section, cut’em loose for a week, and 
then jump ’em five hundred miles, never goin’ to 
the first district again for six months or a year. 
Ef they keep a-crackin’ and a-crackin’ at one spot 
all the time, somethin’s bound to git broke. That’s 
the way I calculate.” 

“ Well, who is your party? ” asked Gerty, whose 
curiosity was aroused. “ I was just telling the old 
man to-night that I’d have to jump on the road 
again and do the blonde act, the dudey, and so 
forth. When it comes to ‘ shinning,’ I can pass as 
much stuff in a day as most of them do in a week, 
but three days in a good big town once a year is 
my limit. ” 

“ You’re goin’ to stop right here, and be a lady,” 
said Driggs, who didn’t want his wife put away 
between four walls. It must be remembered that 
he was almost eighty years of age, and, having got 
used to the many little comforts and attentions she 
was able to give him, naturally shrank from the 
prospect of losing her, even though he knew her to 
be unfaithful. 

“ Oh, that’s all right, Nelse — but let us hear who 
Miller’s man is,” interrupted Gerty. 

“ He’s an old friend of mine; in fact, one of the 
best friends I have in the world, and a man I had 
no notion of seeing when I left Dayton.” 

“What’s his name, Sep?” asked Driggs, who 
was much taken with the fact that the new victim 
was a warm personal friend of Miller’s, whom he 
secretly detested. 


THE YANKEE LAWYER 


121 


“ Andy McWilliams. He’s a lawyer in Hart¬ 
ford, Connecticut, running a big business, and his 
specialty is making loans to farmers for his rich 
clients. Why, he’s the very man you want. ” 

“ How did you get to see him? ” asked Gert)'. 

“ He was on his way to Chicago, and telegraphed 
me to meet him in Indianapolis,” replied the law¬ 
yer; “ but, as I was in Shelbyville, and he was rich, 
I wired him to come on there. We hadn’t met 
before in four or five years, and I knew he’d come; 
so, sure enough, he called on me the night of the 
trial at the hotel, and sent up his card — wait, I 
think I have it with me — yes, here it is. Well, 
you’d better believe we had a high old time that 
night; I got to bed at about 4 a. m., with a head 
on me like a bushel basket.” 

“ How did you come to mention this business? ” 
asked Driggs. 

“ Why, it was the simplest thing in the world. I 
pulled out some money at the bar to pay for a 
drink, and was about to lay it down when I saw 
what it was; ‘ Hold on,’ I said, ‘ give that back; I 
don’t want to get locked up.’ * Why,’ asked Mac, 
picking up the bill, ‘ what’s the matter with that? ’ 
‘ Counterfeit,’ said I, ‘ that’s all. I am up here 
defending a couple of fellows who are charged with 
circulating these things.’ Well, he looked at it 
pretty carefully, not saying anything at the time, 
but next day, after the poor boys were settled, he 
asked me to show it to him again. 

“ * How did you get it? ’ said he. 

“ * Why, when the police searched them, they 


122 


THE CONIACKERS 


overlooked this one,’said I, ‘and so they gave it 
to me to keep, so that it would not be found on 
them.’ 

“ ‘ Well/ said Mac, after a mighty careful look, 

‘ it’s good.’ With that he pushed out two bills of 
the same issue, and mixed them up. He tried his 
best, and couldn’t pick out his from mine, and I had 
to show him which was which. ” 

“ Well, says Mack, if I had some of that money 
down in Hartford, I could work it off as easy as 
rolling off a log. I'd take it out on the race track 
for one place, and work it on the bookmakers dur¬ 
ing the excitement; but, better than that, I could 
spread it easily among the farmers. So I told him 
if he’d come down to Dayton, I might be able to 
get him some.” 

Driggs and Gerty listened attentively to this 
plausible story, and then the old man put Miller 
through a cross-examination, which, as Miller was 
a ready liar and had a good memory, only served to 
strengthen its probability. Gerty accepted the yarn 
at its face value from the first, and was impatient 
of Nelse’s questions. 

“ Anybody’d think Sep was lying to hear you,” 
she declared, looking at the card Miller had given 
her. “When is Mac coming?” she continued, 
turning to the attorney. 

“ He was to come to-morrow if nothing happened 
to prevent him,” answered Miller, glad that Gerty 
swallowed the bait so eagerly. 

Sure enough, the next afternoon, Miller drove 
out with Chief Bell to the road house, and the lat- 


THE YANKEE LAWYER 


123 


ter was at once introduced as “ Andrew McWill¬ 
iams, of Hartford.” 

When the introduction was made, the chief 
pulled out his card case, and, handing a couple of his 
business cards to Driggs, said : 

“ Stick up one of these in your card rack, and, if 
you have any friends who want to raise money on 
good property, recommend me.” 

“ Certain,” said Driggs, taking the cards, putting 
on his glasses, and examining one of them. 

The subject of the “ queer ” money was cau¬ 
tiously introduced by the chief, and, after a close 
lot of questioning, Driggs elicited the same story 
from the supposed Yankee lawyer as Miller had 
already told. 

Late in the evening Gerty went up-stairs, and 
returned in a few minutes with thirty-five crisp 
new bills. 

When she returned to the sitting-room, where 
the chief, Driggs, and Miller were sitting, she 
said : 

“ These don’t look quite so good as the one Sep 
showed you ! ” 

“ No,” said the chief, looking at them as she held 
them up for his inspection ; “ I should say not. 
They are all shiny, and somehow they don’t look 
right. I don’t think they could be passed.” 

“ You wait till I get through fixing them, and then 
see. They look altogether too new to be genuine, 
that is the principal trouble, and they are a little off 
color as well. ” 

She then went to the kitchen, and returned in a 


124 


THE CONIACKERS 


few minutes with a tin dish full of tobacco tea, and a 
bottle of glycerine. 

“ What are you going to do now? ” asked the 
chief, who was intensely interested in the proceed¬ 
ings, for no detective had ever before witnessed 
any part of the process by which bogus bills are 
manufactured. 

“ I’m going to give you a free show,” laughed 
Gerty, who was very vain of her figure, and not so 
far afflicted with modesty as to be chary in showing 
it. “ I am going to transform these bills,” she con¬ 
tinued, “ so that they will be accepted anywhere, 
unless a close description of how to tell them from 
the genuine has been furnished to the person who 
takes them. ” 

She then placed the tobacco water on the table, 
and drew a chair up to it. The blinds were pulled 
down, and Driggs was stationed outside the door to 
see that no one interrupted the business in hand, 
and then Gerty seated herself, laying the pile of 
notes beside the tin dish, and uncorking the gly¬ 
cerine bottle. 

“ Now, Mac,” she said, “just pull that lamp a 
little nearer, and watch me while I give you a les¬ 
son in coniacking. ” 

The chief did as directed, and was then startled 
by Gerty pulling up her skirts to a perfectly scan¬ 
dalous height. 

“Is that part of the business?” he asked, 
quietly. 

“ You bet it is,” she replied, with a giggle, “ and 
a very important part too— eh, Sep? ” 


THE YANKEE LAWYER 12 $ 

“ Rather,” answered Sep, with a laugh, in which 
the chief detected a mocking ring, which was 
entirely lost on the beautiful but abandoned 
woman. 

As she turned down her stocking, Miller caught 
sight of the handsome garter buckles which Do- 
nello had given her, and asked: 

“ Where did you get the jeweled garters, Gertie? ” 

“Why, haven’t you seen those before?” she 
asked, somewhat surprised. 

“ No, I haven’t,” he replied, in a surly tone of 
voice. 

Gerty noticed this, and the spirit of mischief 
prompted her to tease him; so she said: 

“ They were a present from the Spaniard. That’s 
the kind of a friend I like— as handsome as he can 
live, and a fellow who knows how to treat a girl.” 

Miller was sulky from that time until he went 
home, and consoled himself by the thought of his 
soon coming revenge, when Gerty and the Spaniard 
would be separated for some time to come. 

During this conversation the chief was watching 
interestedly Gerty’s manipulation of the notes. 
First they were soaked for a few minutes in the 
tobacco water, and then she laid the note out flat 
on her bare thigh lengthwise, and, after smearing 
her hand with glycerine, proceeded to rub the 
counterfeit vigorously from her. 

“ Why do you do that? ” asked Bell. 

“ To take the gloss off and give the color, and 
soften the paper,” she told him. “ You see,” she 
continued, “ the paper the government notes are 


126 


THE CONIACKERS 


on is made of silk by a peculiar process. Now, we 
can’t make a good imitation of silk pulp paper, 
because it is not used for anything but bank notes, 
and the secret is only known to one firm. But 
there are plenty of linen paper makers who can do 
almost anything in imitating other papers, so one 
of these fellows who runs a little paper-mill of his 
own, makes this fiber by hand. He sells it to us, 
and makes a big profit.” 

“ Why doesn’t he get the color right? ” asked the 
chief, who was bent on learning as much as he 
could of the outside members of the gang. 

“ He comes as close as he can in linen pulp and 
fiber, but we have to help him out. What do you 
suppose is the first thing we print? ” 

“ The green back? ” asked the chief, who knew 
better, but wanted to draw the woman out as much 
as possible, by seeming entirely ignorant of the 
whole business. 

“ That’s what the government sharks think,” said 
Gerty, “ but it isn’t. We have a plate engraved 
just like the fiber of the genuine paper, and we 
print an impression of that on each side of the 
paper before another thing is done.” 

All this time she was working away skillfully on 
the counterfeits, which, after they had passed 
through her hands, presented the appearance of 
genuine notes. 

“ These look elegant,” remarked the chief, hand¬ 
ling those notes which Gerty had finished up. 

“ Yes,” answered the woman, “ they are pretty 
near as nice as the blokes in Washington turn out.” 


THE YANKEE LAWYER 


127 


“ It’s a very interesting process,” said the chief, 
with a smile; “ particularly this part of it —that is, 
when a pretty woman is doing the finishing.” 

Miller glowered at this remark, while Gerty said, 
with a giggle: 

“ Oh, I’m not at all struck with my^own shape, 
although I’ve seen plenty worse; but the job has 
to be done just this way. You see it keeps the 
paper warm on both sides, and makes the syrup 
take better.” 

At length the thirty-five tens were finished up, 
and Gerty said: 

“ Now, Sep, this gentleman is your friend, and 
I’ve taken him into the gang on your recommend. 
If you can vouch for him, he’s all right, so I want 
you to hand him the stuff, and take his money.” 

Sep Miller was quite deep enough in the transac¬ 
tion to suit him, and he did not propose to put in 
Chief Bell’s hands another rod for his own back. 
He did not take a second to consider the proposition. 
He declined at once, and said: 

“ Oh, no, Gerty— you know very well that I have 
never handled the stuff, and never will. I don’t 
want Mac here to touch it, but he will do it in spite 
of me, and I can’t tie a rope to him.” 

“ What’s the matter with you? Are you scared 
of your own friend?” asked Gerty, annoyed that 
her lover should refuse to do anything she asked 
him, even to handling the crooked money at her 
request. 

“ I’m no more scared of Mac than I am of any 
one else — not as much,” replied Miller, quickly; 


128 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ but you know I never handled a dollar of it, and 
never will.” 

“ That’s true enough,” answered Gerty, with a 
sneer; “ but you’ve helped to spend many a dollar 
earned by it.” 

This sneering sarcasm only had the effect of 
making the attorney more remorseless in betraying 
Gerty, along with the rest of the gang, into the 
hands of the officers. 

He made no reply to the humiliating remark, 
but changed the subject by saying: 

“ Well, Mac, it’s about twelve o’clock, and, if you 
want to see the town, we’d better be moving.” 

Thereupon the chief turned over $117.50 of 
Uncle Sam’s good money, and received in exchange 
$350 in counterfeit bills, which, if circulated, would 
in the end surely rob some members of this great 
American commonwealth. For Uncle Sam can no 
more be expected to honor forgeries on his credit 
than a merchant can be expected to take up all the 
forged paper that any scoundrel may choose to 
negotiate with the merchant’s name apparently 
signed to it. The only thing Uncle Sam can do 
under the circumstances is just what he was doing 
all through this case, to instruct his boys that they 
must spare neither money, personal inconvenience, 
nor life itself, to put these infamous scoundrels in 
a place so secure that they could not issue any 
more of the bogus stuff. 

In speaking of this point, it must be remembered 
that any man who gets into a nest of counter¬ 
feiters only does so by taking his life in his hands. 


THE YANKEE LAWYER 


129 


If either Nelse or Gerty Driggs, both of whom 
were armed, had suspected Chief Bell after the 
counterfeits were shown, he would have been a 
dead man before he had time to draw a weapon, 
and Miller would have followed him into eternity to 
a moral certainty. 

“ Well,” said the chief, after he had rolled up the 
bills and put them in his vest pocket, “ I guess 
we’d better get back to town.” 

“ Yes,” assented Miller, “ especially as I am go¬ 
ing to leave the mare here to-night, and the last 
car on the electric passes at five minutes past 
twelve. ” 

The adieux were made, and the chief said he 
would go to Hartford next day, and return as soon 
as he had worked off the $350. 

As they left the road house to walk to the street¬ 
car line, a silent, stealthy figure glided out of the 
darkness opposite, and, as they reached the side¬ 
walk, the shadow passed them. It was Billy Hall, 
who had seen their arrival, and waited with the 
patience of a Choctaw Indian to see them leave. 

Surmising that they were going to catch the last 
car, he kept a little in advance of the chief and his 
companion until the railway was reached. As they 
boarded the car, he swung himself on and took a 
seat facing the rear, where the chief sat on the dash¬ 
board smoking a cigar. 

Miller, who was still in a savage frame of mind 
about Gerty’s conduct, occupied the rear seat, and, 
while his attention was attracted to something on 


The Coniackers 9 


130 


THE CONIACKERS 


the railway platform, Bell flashed his roll of bogus 
money to Hall, who was thus assured that the chief 
had succeeded in gaining the confidence of the 
coniackers. 


CHAPTER X. 

JIM GUYON AT LAST. 

The chief went East to New York, took a run up 
to Hartford, and then, after being gone a week, 
returned to Dayton. 

“ Hello, Mac,” said Gerty, as he entered the sit¬ 
ting-room one morning; “ shake hands. How did 
you get along? ” 

“ First rate,” answered Bell, taking the prof¬ 
fered hand. “ I got rid of it all, and as far as I can 
hear, no one suspected anything wrong.” 

“ How did you shove it? ” was the next ques¬ 
tion. 

“ As I told you I would. I got eight of them in 
at the trotting meeting the first day I got home, 
and not only that, but I trebled my money, getting 
back two of the queer ones in the pool. The next 
day I plunged ten of them with a bookmaker, just 
as the bell rang, and I’m blamed if I didn’t win 
again. Then an old ‘sooner’ from the country 
raised a loan from me, and carried four of them 
off in his wallet. Two of them went to my clerk 
in his month’s salary, and just for curiosity I kept 
track of one of them. He paid it to his landlord, 
who is a client of mine, and that same afternoon I 



JIM GUYON AT LAST 


131 

saw it among some other money handed in at the 
Third National Bank.” 

" Did they refuse it? ” 

“Not a bit of it. The teller took it as a cat 
takes cream, without any suspicion, and he is 
counted the quickest man in the State on catching 
counterfeits. When I saw the stuff go by him all 
right, I was mighty well pleased, I can tell you.” 

“ I’m just going to make a trip to Hartford 
myself,” Gerty declared. “ I could shove about a 
thousand dollars on them if they take it so easy. 
That’s because they haven’t seen the bill before.” 

“ Yes,” rejoined the chief; “ you want to jump 
my claim and gobble my territory. That isn’t a 
square deal, Gerty. I ought to have the show in 
the East as long as I buy plenty of your stuff. 
Besides, suppose some one traced a counterfeit to 
me, I’d never be suspected of anything wrong, on 
account of my position and good reputation. 
They’d think I had been victimized myself, and, 
you bet, I’d take it ba~k mighty quick, and give 
up my long green for it, too. Now, if they got 
you at it, you’d be jugged in a holy minute. They’d 
jump right on you for a ‘ shover,’ and send you 
up Salt Creek as sure as the world.” 

This last argument had due weight with Gerty, 
but, making a virtue of necessity, she said: 

“ I’m not afraid of being ‘ pinched,’ because I 
do my work too slick for that. They’d never trace 
anything to me, because I’d never be the same per¬ 
son two days running, and, of course, I’d change 
my hotel every day.” 


132 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ Disguises, eh? ” 

“ Yes, plenty of them, and all dandies. But 
what you say about the East being yours as long as 
you work it well, and buy lots of stuff, is right; 
I’m a square woman, and wouldn’t do anything mean 
for the world.” 

“That’s right, Gerty — it does not pay in the 
long run to do the sneak act,” said the chief, who 
knew she wouldn’t hesitate to do anything for 
money, but that her dread of the penitentiary was 
what troubled her principally. 

“ When are you going East again?” she asked, 
after a pause. 

“ As soon as I get my stuff, I guess,” replied 
Bell. 

“ How much do you want this time?” inquired 
Gerty. 

“ Well, seeing I’ve done so well with what I had, 
I want $1,000 this trip.” 

“ We haven’t got that much on hand just now, 
but we can get it in a few days,” replied Gerty, 
delighted at the size of this “order.” “Where 
are you going to stop while you are in Dayton? ” 
she continued. 

“ At the same place, I suppose,” answered the 
chief, not seeing what she was driving at. 

“Why not stop here? ” inquired Gerty. “You 
don’t want to make yourself too conspicuous run¬ 
ning back and forth from here to Dayton. You are 
so tall, and your hair, and all, might attract atten¬ 
tion.” 

“ Very well, I had just as soon stop here as not,” 


JIM GUYON AT LAST 


133 


agreed Bell, who was very glad of an opportunity 
to look out at close quarters for Jim Guyon. 

“ I’ll just go down town and get my valise, and 
be back in a couple of hours,” he said, after think¬ 
ing a minute. 

“ All right,” said Gerty; “ I think that will be the 
safer way. ” 

While the chief was gone for his valise, who 
should make appearance but Donello. 

" Well, for heaven’s sake, Spaniard! where have 
you been keeping yourself?” said Gerty, as he 
came into the house. 

“ I’ve been on the sick-list,” answered the detect¬ 
ive, whose looks did not belie his words. He was 
pale, thin, with big, dark rings around his eyes, 
while he had a nervous look of being generally 
“ broke up.” He had nursed his wife through a 
dangerous illness, and the constant watching and 
anxiety had left their marks upon him. 

“You are looking pretty bad, anyway,” said 
Gerty, sympathetically. “ Sit down, and I’ll bring 
you a nice little drink. It’ll do you good.” 

“ I’m still solid there,” said Donello to himself as 
Gerty left the sitting-room. A few minutes later 
she returned with a decanter of port wine and two 
glasses. 

“ There,” she said, pouring out a glass of the ruby 
fluid; “ that’s what you need, and plenty of it. 
That is what the doctors always order for invalids.” 

“Thanks, Gerty,” said the officer, raising the 
glass to his lips; “ here’s success to our gang.” 

“To you,” she replied, touching his glass with 


134 


THE CONIACKERS 


the edge of hers, and giving him a languishing 
glance. 

“ That is good stuff, ” remarked Donello, setting 
down his glass and refilling it; “ I feel stronger 
already.” 

“ If I had you here to take care of for a week,” 
suggested Gerty, in her prettiest manner, “ I’d have 
you as strong and handsome — I mean as strong 
and well as you ever were. ” 

“ Yes, and have your friend Sep Miller put a nice 
little 44-bullet through me ! Oh no; I’d sooner 
stop sick at that rate. ” 

“ That man’s a crank,” asserted Gerty, unblush- 
ingly; “ he has no claim on me. I never had any¬ 
thing to do with him, but he goes green if another 
man looks at me. I believe if anything happened 
to Nelse, he’d want to marry me ” (with affected 
simplicity), “ but I wouldn’t look at him if a certain 
other person was above ground.” 

What could Donello do after such a “ break ” as 
this ? He could not afford to antagonize the 
woman, on account of the case, so he simply 
slipped his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. 
He didn’t mean any harm by it. The woman just 
threw herself at his head, and he couldn’t help 
himself. 

After a little further conversation, the detective 
succeeded in getting a small supply of the money 
which was handed to him by Driggs, who came in 
while the confab was in progress, and, making an 
excuse, he left the tavern before the chief returned. 


JIM GUYON AT LAST 


135 


For two days Chief Bell stopped with the inter¬ 
esting Driggs family, and with what patience he 
might, waited for the expected counterfeits. By 
the third day he was even more in the good graces 
of the old man than in those of Gerty, for which 
fact there was no accounting at the time. It after¬ 
wards transpired that Driggs had written to a con¬ 
fidential friend of his in Hartford, asking whether 
there was a lawyer at 66 State street named Andrew 
McWilliams, and the friend had sent an afhmative 
answer, which arrived on the second day of the 
chief’s stay in the road house. 

The time was passed in conversations on general 
topics, business being rarely alluded to. At length, 
on the afternoon of the fourth day, McWilliams, 
who devoted most of his attention to the old man, 
said: 

“ I say, Nelse, this kind of work don’t pay. Here 
I am, neglecting my own business, for my clerk 
doesn’t know where on earth I am, and it begins 
to look as if I were here for nothing. When is 
that stuff going to turn up? ” 

“ I don’t know what is keepin’ my pardner,” re¬ 
plied the old man; “he had ought to have been 
here to-day.” 

“ Can’t you send him word that I must get 
away? ” asked the chief; “ I don’t much like stop¬ 
ping around here, anyway. If anything happened 
to you, I might be spotted and run down, and you 
may bet your sweet life I don’t want any of that 
in mine.” 

“ Tell you what I’ll do,” said the old man, knock- 


THE CONIACKERS 


136 

ing the ashes out of his pipe; “ I’ll go to town and 
telegraph him to come right along. ” 

“ That would be a smart trick,” put in the chief, 
you might as well ask the chief of police to notify 
him at once.” 

“ Oh no,” answered Driggs, smiling; “ I’m too 
old a bird to do any fool tricks. You come with 
me and see the telegram. If anybody except my 
man can make anything out of the message, I’ll 
make you a present of what he brings.” 

This exactly suited the chief, so he and Driggs 
went at once to the nearest telegraph office, where 
Driggs wrote out the following message: 

“ To Mr. J. Dasenberry , 

“ 182 John St ., 

“ Cincinnati , O. 

“ Bring up your old clothes. 

“N. D.” 

When he had finished writing this singular com¬ 
munication, he handed it to Bell, who read it with 
a perplexed look. 

“ What does it mean? ” he asked, at the same 
time fixing “ Dusenberry, 182 John St., Cincin¬ 
nati,” firmly in his mind. 

“ Simplest thing in the world,” returned Driggs, 
with a smile, “ when you know how to read it. B 
stands for 1, c for 2, and so on up to 9. Then, o 
stands for cipher. The letter that commences the 
message is B — that means 1. How many o’s are 
there in the whole thing? ” 

“ Three,” answered Bell, counting them. 


JIM GUYON AT LAST 


137 


“ Very well/’ continued Driggs, " then, that 
means B and three o’s, or $1,000. The whole sense 
of the message is * Come/ for he couldn’t ‘ bring up 
his old clothes * without coming — see? ” 

Bell praised the ingenuity of this cryptogram, 
feeling secretly well pleased with his success in at 
last finding out Jim Guyon’s whereabouts. 

The chief made several attempts to get away 
from Driggs long enough to send a cipher message 
to his men in Cincinnati, instructing them to shadow 
Mr. Dusenberry, of 182 John street, but the old 
fellow stuck to him closer than a marrying widow, 
and rendered this course impossible. After reflec¬ 
tion showed Bell that this was for the best, after all. 
The only description they had of Guyon was ten 
years old, and it was not to be supposed that his 
appearance had not been skillfully changed in the 
meantime, to say nothing of time’s ravages, so that, 
without making inquiries which might frighten 
away the much-sought-for bird, it would be useless 
to look for Guyon, alias Dusenberry. 

The next afternoon, while Mrs. Driggswas chat¬ 
ting to the chief, Driggs entered the parlor with a 
tall, thin man with a bronzed face and peculiarly 
alert, glittering eyes. He wore a long gray beard, 
reaching almost to his waist, and was dressed in 
rough clothing. His appearance was that of a 
mechanic in the building trade dressed in his work¬ 
ing clothes. He appeared to be about fifty years 
of age, and the deep lines in his rugged face 
denoted a strong character, while the restless, furtive 
eyes suggested cunning, and quickness of action. 


138 


THE CONIACKERS 


The chief was holding Gerty’s baby on his knee, 
which, by the way, was reported to be Driggs’ 
youngster, though it somehow or other bore quite 
a resemblance to Miller the attorney, and probably 
for this reason the old man never took the slightest 
notice of the child except when it cried. As 
Driggs entered with the stranger the chief set the 
baby on the floor, and the old man said : 

" Mr. Dusenberry, Mr. Jones, of Boston.” 

“ Happy to shake hands with you, Mr. Dusen¬ 
berry,” said the chief, at the same time fairly 
aching to “ collar ” the scoundrel there and then; 
“ I’ve been waiting for you for quite a while.” 

If Jim Guyon had suspected how much trouble 
“ Mr. Jones ” had been at to meet him, he would 
have taken chances on jumping out of a second- 
story window there and then. 

After a few commonplace remarks, among which 
Jim did not mention the counterfeit money, and 
the chief did not dare to, as Jim was such a shy 
creature, the latter and Mr. Driggs retired to 
another room, where they held along confab, dur¬ 
ing which Guyon asked any amount of questions 
about Mr. Jones, and Gerty said: 

“ Nelse only called him Jones to save his feelings. 
That is McWilliams, the lawyer, of Hartford, the 
man who has been so lucky in ‘ shoving ’ the stuff. 
He is all right, for Nelse wrote to Charlie Turner 
about him, and got a letter saying he was straight.” 

“ I never said they wasn’t a lawyer named Mc¬ 
Williams, in Hartford. This yere man may be 
some detective playin’ off he’s McWilliams, for all 


JIM GUYON AT LAST 


139 


you know. Anyhow, he aint goin’ to see me with 
the stuff, so you can hand it over to him yourself, 
or else let Nelse do it. ” 

“ Nobody asked you,” replied Gerty. “ Mac was 
introduced by my friend, and what Sep says goes” 

" Mighty stuck on Sep, ain’t you, Gerty? ” 

“ Well, if I am, it’s none of your funeral.” 

“ Oh, I know — you and ’Lise are alike as wo 
peas — you’d like a dozen husbands apiece, but 
wouldn’t have one of ’em say a word to another 
woman. ” 

“ Oh, you’re sore because ’Lise shook you —that’s 
what ails you,” returned Gerty, disagreeably. “ If 
any man took my wife away from me, I’d go and 
knock seven kinds of tar out of him, that’s what I’d 
do. I’d like to see any woman fool with Sep or 
Nelse, that’s all. ” 

This speech bore fruit later on. The interview 
terminated by Jim handing over the notes to Gerty, 
who went back to the parlor, where she found the 
chief still playing with the baby. Nelse had gone 
down to the bar-room in answer to a call. 

“ Here’s the stuff, Mac,” she said, as she closed the 
door carefully after her. “ Where’s your boodle? ” 

The detective handed out the proper amount of 
Uncle Sam’s money, and carefully counted the 
counterfeits. 

“ There is one short,” he said, as he concluded 
this operation, “ but that’s all right.” 

“ Let me count,” said Gerty, taking the pile. 
“ You are right,” she said; “ Jim has made a mis¬ 
take, but I’ll fix it.” 


i4o 


THE CONIACKERS 


Then, from her usual hiding place, she produced 
two more of the bills, and said : 

“ There, I’m more liberal than the government, 
and give better measure.” 

As Bell put the stuff into his pockets he thought 
to himself that the government would treat this 
charming woman liberally enough —in the matter 
of sentence as soon as it laid hands on her. 

“ I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he said, as he stowed 
away the last of the “ cargo ” in his breast pocket; 
“ in case of anything happening, I’d like to have a 
good big pile of this stuff. It would be a good in¬ 
vestment for me, because, if anything did happen, 
I could hide it away for a couple of years, and then 
run it all off in a few weeks through agents. I 
have a scheme in my head that would use up about 
$25,000 of the stuff.” 

“ That’s a good sized pile, and you’ll have to see 
Nelse about it,” said Gerty, who had been count¬ 
ing the cash received from Bell. 

The next day, after two or three conversations 
with “ Dusenberry ” anent the large amount, the 
latter left for Cincinnati, leaving Driggs to dicker 
with “ McWilliams,” whom he now knew by this 
name. 

“ It’s a big lot of stuff,” said Driggs, while talk¬ 
ing it over the next day, “ and we haven’t got that 
much or near it on hand. You see, what you’ve 
been usin’ so far is stuff that was' printed up ten 

years ago, when that d-d Cap Hall ‘ lagged ’ 

me. We’ll have to print up a new issue.” 



JIM GUYON AT LAST 


141 

“ It’ll pay you all right enough,” remarked the 
chief. 

Regular rates?” asked Driggs. 

“ Not much. I couldn’t afford to lay out eighty- 
three hundred dollars and run the risk of not being 
able to use it for perhaps five years, and the fur¬ 
ther one of doing time for it after all.” 

“ What is your best offer ? ” 

“ I’ll give you twenty per cent, of the face value 
of the stuff, $25,000, and, if I take it all in one lump 
and pay cash for it, I want one and a half per cent, 
off my payment for cash. The fact is, I am not act¬ 
ing entirely for myself in this thing. There are 
other parties in it that I know and can trust ” (how 
true this was !); “ so I want some little rake-off for 
myself, which the one and a half per cent, will just 
make up.” 

Nelse took out a pencil, and on the back of one 
of his business cards figured out what this would 
come to. As he concluded his arithmetical prob¬ 
lem, he said : 

“ It means just $5,000 for the stuff and $75 for 
the rake-off. That’s a mighty close bargain you 
want to drive, mister.” 

“ It’s business, that’s all. I want to buy, and 
I’ve made my best offer to save all haggling. If I 
get the stuff at that rate, I’ll take it. If I don’t, I’ll 
quit the business, and that settles it.” 

After some further talk, Driggs, who had been 
cautioned by Guyon that he intended to investigate 
McWilliams thoroughly before going into any fur¬ 
ther deals with him, said that he would have to see 


142 


THE CONIACKERS 


Dusenberry about it, and find out whether he was 
willing to do the printing. 

That afternoon the chief left for the East with his 
newly acquired roll of “ bogus,” ostensibly to 
introduce it into national circulation. 


CHAPTER XI. 

A counterfeiter’s detective. 

When Jim Guyon returned to Cincinnati, he was 
armed with one of the “ Andrew McWilliams ” 
business cards; and, as the train sped along, he 
rapidly formed and discarded a dozen plans for 
finding out all about this money-lending lawyer. 

He had left Dayton on account of the latter’s 
presence there, and the day after his arrival at 182 
John street, was surprised by receiving a telegram 
which read : 

“ Mac gone East. Come back. Most impor¬ 
tant. 

“ N. D." 

He was the more willing to return because he 
had been unable to hit on a plan which exactly 
suited him. As he was much handier with his 
little plate press than with the mysteries of letter¬ 
writing, he was only too glad of an excuse to re¬ 
turn to Dayton and call in the assistance of Nelse 
Driggs’ long head. Accordingly he took the next 
train, and a few hours later was in consultation 
with the old man again. 

“ What do you propose ? ” he asked. 



A COUNTERFEITER’S DETECTIVE 143 

“ I’ll tell you,” said Nelse, after thinking over the 
matter. “Johnny Graham, the ‘con’ man, is a 
friend of mine, and as keen as a blade. I’ll write 
him again to-night, and get him to look into this 
man’s business thoroughly. I believe he’s square, 
and, if he ain’t, we can find out easily. I had a 
brother in Hartford, and visited him fifty-one years 
ago. Now, I remember just where his farm was, and 
by this time I reckon it must be in the city limits, 
though I don’t know, for I haven’t been there since, 
and my brother has been dead these forty years.” 

“ Well, this man McWilliams is in the real estate 
and loan business, accordin’ to his business card. 
I’ll get Johnny, who is a good looker, to go to him 
and let on he wants to buy lots in this property, 
and pretend he thinks Mac owns them. If he’s the 
same man, Johnny’ll know him by my description, 
and, if there’s anything wrong about him, Johnny’ll 
drop to it quick.” 

“Old man,” said Guyon, admiringly, “you’ve 
got a great old head on you. That’s the very 
scheme — crafty act, crafty act.” 

“ Well, that bein’ settled,” resumed the old man, 
“ what about Mac’s proposal, supposin’ he turns out 
to be all right ? ” 

“ He’s a wolf; that’s all I think about that,” was 
the emphatic answer. “ He has us more or less by 
the hair, and thinks he can cinch us. I’ll get up the 
stuff for him, and, if we can’t get his $4, 7 2 5 an y 
other way, I suppose we’ll have to let him have the 
goods. But it gravels me like h— to part with 
the pretties so cheap.” 


144 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ Me too,” assented the old man. “ Maybe we 
could work the sawdust trick on him ? ” 

“ I’m afraid not, ” replied Jim," and, anyhow, he’s 
a pretty determined-looking fellow, and might take 
it into his head to squeal. You know blamed well 
the government ’u’d give any man a free pardon to 
turn us up.” 

“ Well, you go on and fix up the stuff, anyway, 
and I’ll see what I can think of to ‘ do him ’ on the 
big deal,” said Driggs, and then the precious pair 
parted. 

Two days later, officer Byron K. O’Dwyer was 
standing in front of number 66 State street, Hart¬ 
ford, Conn. Chief Bell had posted him there in 
anticipation of some investigating committee visit¬ 
ing him on behalf of the coniackers. O’Dwyer was 
in the act of lighting a cigar, when a well-dressed 
man, about thirty-five years of age, stepped up to 
him and said: 

“ Has Andrew McWilliams got an office in this 
building ? ” 

“ Yes,” replied the officer, pointing up to the 
sign, “ room u, third floor.” 

The stranger entered the building, walked to the 
elevator, and was whirled rapidly up to the floor on 
which the office was situated. 

The door of room n was open, and, looking in, 
he saw “ clerk ” McManus working away like steam. 
On the desk before him was a mass of correspond¬ 
ence, which he was sorting and filing away on a 
letter-file. 

Graham watched him for a moment, thinking 


A counterfeiter's DETECTIVE 145 

himself unobserved, and then entered. McManus, 
though, had taken him all in in a little mirror above 
the desk, hung there for just that purpose. 

“ Is McWilliams in? ” asked Graham. 

“ No; he is not,” replied McManus, without look¬ 
ing up from his work; “ he is in Boston, and I don't 
expect him back before to-morrow.” 

“ I’m sorry for that — I wanted to see him on 
important business,” asserted Graham, who was 
engaged in looking over the supposed clerk’s 
shoulder at the letters, circulars, etc., to assure him¬ 
self that they were genuine. 

“ Is there anything that I can do for you? ” asked 
McManus, pushing back his chair; “ if it’s anything 
very pressing, perhaps I can do what is needed, 
until Mr. McWilliams returns from Boston to¬ 
morrow. ” 

“ It isn’t as important as that,’’said Graham, who 
by this time was convinced that the correspondence, 
at any rate, was all regular. “ What time do you 
expect him? ” 

“ By the first train.” 

“ Then, I’ll be around early to see him. Good 
day,” and Johnny Graham, confidence man, swind¬ 
ler, and at times sneak thief, lounged out of the 
room with all the careless swagger of a millionaire. 

No sooner had he gone, than McManus, who 
had recognized Mr. Graham from his picture in the 
rogue’s gallery, called a district telegraph boy, and 
wired the following message to the chief in New 
York: 


The Coniackers 10 


146 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ Party here to see you. 

“ McManus.’* 

On receipt of this, Mr. Bell jumped on the first 
train, and when, in the morning, he entered his 
office in Hartford at nine o’clock, Mr. Johnny Gra¬ 
ham was there already and waiting for him. 

Without taking the slightest notice of his visitor, 
beyond a “ good morning,” for McManus had pur¬ 
posely left Graham alone in the office, so that he 
might read some of the letters if he wanted to, and 
thus satisfy himself of the genuineness of the busi¬ 
ness being here conducted, the chief sat down at 
the desk, and opened the top letter of a big bunch 
of mail. 

Mr. Graham made no remarks. He was engaged 
in mentally comparing McWilliams with the de¬ 
scription furnished by Driggs. 

After Bell had read the letter, he commenced to 
write a reply, which was soon finished. He then 
opened another letter, read it, and, on finishing his 
perusal, touched a little bell on his desk. 

McManus appeared immediately and, as he 
entered the room, said: 

“ This gentleman called to see you yesterday, sir. ” 

“ Pardon me,” said “ McWilliams,” turning to 
the spy; 4 ‘ I’ve been away from home for a day or 
two, and, as I was expecting important letters, I 
pitched right into my mail as soon as I came in.” 

“ That’s all right, Mr. McWilliams,” replied 
Johnny, who was by this time satisfied that he had 
found the right man; “ I’m in no hurry, and can 
wait a few minutes as well as not.” 


A counterfeiter’s detective 147 

“ I’d take it as a favor,” said the cunning chief, 
“ if you would wait until I dictate a reply to this 
letter, to my stenographer. I am anxious to get it 
away by the first mail.” 

“ Certainly,” answered Johnny, obligingly; “ go 
right ahead, and, if I’m in the way, I’ll go out and 
have a smoke.” 

“Not at all — just sit right where you are.” 
Then, turning to the “ clerk,” he said, “ Please take 
this, Mr. Bolton.” 

McManus picked up a red-lined book from the 
type-writer stand, and, sitting down, pretended to 
short-hand the following letter: 

“ Mr. William P. Hunt , 

“ Derby Centre, 

“ Vermont. 

“ Dear Sir —In reference to your application for 
a loan of $1,500 on your farm as per your letter 
dated May 2d, 1889, and in answer to your favor 
of 25th, would say: My correspondent reports 
that $1,000 is all that we could lend on his valua¬ 
tion. I saw my principal yesterday in Boston, and 
he is willing to let you have this amount at eight per 
cent and the usual fees for deed, search, etc. 
Please let me know at once whether this will an¬ 
swer your purpose, and oblige, 

“ Yours respectfully.” 

McManus took his scrawls (which bore about as 
much resemblance to short-hand as a cow does to a 
locomotive) to the type-writer, and commenced 


148 


THE CONIACKERS 


punching the instrument as if his life depended 
on it. 

“ Now, sir;” said the chief, turning to Graham, 
“ what can I have the pleasure of doing for you?” 

“ I want to invest some money in real estate,” 
commenced Johnny; “ and there is a property out 
at Congress and Barton streets that I think would 
suit me, if the price isn’t too high. I want to buy 
six or seven lots.” 

" I’ll be very glad to act as your agent,” replied 
the chief, who at once saw through this story. 

“ Why!” exclaimed Johnny, in affected surprise, 
“ I thought you owned the property! ” 

“ No,” answered the chief, “ but I know the man 
who does; in fact, he is a client of mine, and he is 
quite anxious to sell. Suppose we go out and see 
the lots. I’ll just telephone to the livery barn for 
a horse and buggy.” 

“ Oh, never mind that,” protested Graham; “ I 
don’t want to put you to so much trouble.” 

“ No trouble at all,” declared the chief; “ it’s all 
in the way of business, and, if you buy the prop¬ 
erty, I’ll make a very neat percentage on the sale.” 

In spite of Graham’s protests, Bell insisted, and 
soon they were spinning out to the suburbs behind 
a very good piece of horseflesh, considering that 
it came from a livery stable. 

After inspecting the property, they returned to 
Hartford, and the chief entertained the spy royally. 
Supper, billiards, the theater and a general good 
time followed in quick succession, until Johnny felt 
almost ashamed of himself for ever doing the 


A counterfeiter’s detective 149 

“ sneak act” on such a genial, big-hearted fellow 
as “ lawyer McWilliams, of Hartford, Conn.” 

Promising to meet in the morning, they parted; 
the chief smiling to himself as he thought how 
completely he had “ done ” the coniackers’ detect¬ 
ive. Early the next morning Mr. John Graham 
was a passenger on the Boston express. Appar¬ 
ently he had forgotten his appointment to meet 
McWilliams’ client at one o’clock, sharp. 

The failure of this good-looking young capitalist 
to keep his engagement amused the detectives 
mightily, and confirmed the shrewdness of 
McManus’ guess as to his real business with “ law¬ 
yer McWilliams.” Indeed, three days afterward, 
the chief received a letter from Miller, who was by 
this time working heartily with the officers; for he 
knew that his own liberty depended on his fidelity 
to them. The letter stated that Johnny Graham 
had reported thus: “ McWilliams is all right. He 
is a clever man, and a prince of good fellows,” in 
which statement every straight man who enjoys the 
privilege of knowing John S. Bell, heartily concurs 
— but in rather a different sense. 

Everything was now in full sail for the big deal, 
and many were the plans thought out by the chief, 
and carried into execution by the intelligent, fear¬ 
less fellows to whom he intrusted them. 

Half a dozen of the smartest men in the service, 
among them Sweeney, Hall, Abbott and Caster, 
were located in Dayton, with instructions to shadow 
certain suspects, and learn all they could. Billy 
Hall’s particular care was to watch Driggs, which 


THE CONIACKERS 


150 

office he filled to the queen’s taste, and it is safe to 
say, that, after the big deal commenced, Billy was 
able to account for every hour of the old villain’s 
time until the trap was sprung. 

In order to look after Guyon, officers Abbott 
and Caster, dressed in rough working clothes as 
carpenters, drove several times, in an old wagon 
filled with lumber, to the Driggs house, and stop¬ 
ped for a drink or two. Thev finally grew quite 
chatty with the old man. 

“ Where are you fellers goin’? ” he asked, the first 
time they stopped at his door. 

“ Oh, we’re on our road to the Soldiers’ Home,” 
replied Caster; “ we’ve got a job up there that 
we’re going to spin out as long as we can.” 

“ Right you are,” chimed in Abbott; “ and 
you’ll see us here every time we go out or in.” 

“ ’Pears like the government is just about fit to 
spin a job on, anyway,” said Driggs, with a laugh, 
and continued, “ Well, boys, what’ll you have with 
me?” 

The chief went back to Dayton, after an absence 
of nearly a week. He wanted to know when the 
new batch of “stuff” was going to be ready, if 
at all. 

“ You don’t need to fret,” said the old man; “ my 
pardner’s workin’ hard on it, and I guess he’ll have 
it ready for you pretty soon. You must remember 
that you cap’t hire a buildin’ and three or four hands 
to help you turn out this kind o’ stuff.” 

“ I know that,” returned the chief, “ but I’m get¬ 
ting anxious about it all the same. Dusenberry 


A counterfeiter’s detective 


151 

didn’t seem any too hot after my custom, though I 
guess my money ought to talk as loud as any¬ 
body’s. ” 

“ Never you mind Jim — he’s a cranky cuss any¬ 
way, and he’s all right now. But how are you 
gettin’ on with the last lot ? ” 

“ First-class. I got rid of some in New York 
last week, and the best joke I’ve struck yet was 
this : 

“ One of those Chatham street sheenys last Friday 
insisted on me looking at a pair of opera glasses. 
Well, I didn’t want them any more than you want 
Inspector Byrnes living with you. I told him so, 
but, right or wrong, he would have me look at them, 
and almost dragged me into the shop. In I went, 
and he showed me the glasses, and said they were 
worth twenty dollars, but he would give me a dead 
bargain on them at ten. I said I didn’t need them, 
but, if they were a hoodoo to him and he wanted to 
get them off his hands, I’d give him three and a half 
and take them along. He threw up both hands 
and called me a robber, so I walked out, pretending 
to be mad. Well, sir, he rushed after me, and said 
it would bring him bad luck if I went away mad, so 
he’d let me take the glasses for five. Just to see 
how much I could beat him down, I told him I’d 
give four, and not another cent if his tongue hung 
out a yard.” 

“ Fader Abraham ! ” he yelled, “ do you vant to 
take de bread out of Rachael’s mouth ? ” 

“ Oh no, I said. You’d better go feed her the 
glasses for dessert, and I walked clear out this time. 


52 


THE CONIACKERS 


He ran after me with the glasses in his hand, and 
shouted, ‘ Take dem for four and a haluf, and get 
out of de neighborhood before dey lynch you for a 
highwayman ; ’ so I shoved a ten on him, got the 
change and skipped.” 

“ That’s the first time I ever heard of a Jew takin’ 
one of ’em,” said Driggs. “ Those people know 
queer money if they are deaf, dumb and blind. I 
believe they scent it like ahound pup scents a rabbit. ” 
“ Well, to return to business,” said Bell, “ when 
am I to have the big lot ? ” 

“ In about a week, I reckon. You won’t want 
any before that time, I suppose ? ” 

“ No — not before that— unless I run up against 
some extraordinary luck.” 

The chief left again that night for the East, 
and did not return until another week had passed. 

“Jim’s been kind a’ sick lately,” said the old 
man, “ and he can’t have the big wad ready until 
next week, or mebby the week after. ” 

“ Well, I’ve got to have $500 anyway,” re¬ 
turned Bell, “ because I gave $300 of the last lot 
to one of my side partners in the big deal. He’s 
taken it out West to Seattle and around there — his 
own stamping ground—to see whether it will work 
off all right ; so I haven’t any of it left.” 

“ I declare,” said Driggs, “ if you don’t come 
pretty nigh beatin’ any one ever I see, ’cept Gerty, 
for * shovin ’ it. But I can’t let you have any till 
to-morrow night — I’ll have to get it first.” 

On the following day Hall saw the old man 
leaving the house with a russet leather sachel. It 


A counterfeiter’s detective 153 

was quite early in the morning, but it was ex¬ 
pected that Guyon would turn up with a fresh 
supply of the “ greens,” so Billy and Shaw had 
relieved each other on watch all the night through. 

Billy shadowed his man to the electric railway, 
then to Dayton, and finally to the railway depot, 
where he saw him buy a ticket to Cincinnati. The 
officer also bought a ticket, and followed the old 
man onto' the train. 

Driggs was pre-occupied with something or 
other, and was entirely unsuspicious of being 
watched, so it was an easy matter to keep track of 
him until Cincinnati was reached. Once off the 
train, Driggs began to make some very peculiar 
moves. He walked out of one door, and, as soon 
as he got outside, old as he was, he darted down 
the street and ran back into the depot by another 
entrance. Hall was too quick for him, though, 
and followed him up. As he was watching the old 
man, and following him, the old fellow suddenly 
wheeled and came rapidly toward him. Driggs 
knew him well, and was quick enough to recognize 
him almost instantly. 

It was a moment for action. With a sudden 
jerk, Hall pulled a number of coins out of his 
pocket and let them scatter all over the platform. 
In an instant the bootblacks and other “ kids,” 
together with a number of men, were scrambling 
together over the nickels and dimes. The move 
had the desired effect, however, for Driggs at once 
joined the crowd to see what the excitement was 
all about, while Hall, doing the “ drunk act,” 


154 


THE CONIACKERS 


pulled his slouch hat down over his eyes, and 
staggered off, muttering to himself. 

In a minute or two he had the satisfaction of 
seeing the old man pass him, and again followed 
him out of the door. This time Driggs walked 
across the road to a saloon. Hall followed him, 
still playing drunk, and, as he entered the bar, saw 
the old man going rapidly toward the rear. 

The detective did not lose a minute in bolting 
out of the front door, and was just in time to see 
Driggs, who must have fairly sprinted through the 
alley, turn a corner. 

The old man now seemed to feel that he had 
baffled any possible shadow, but across the road, 
about thirty feet behind him, was a man who would 
never let go until he found out what business had 
brought Nelson Driggs to town that sultry morn¬ 
ing. 

As Hall expected, as soon as Nelse felt secure 
from being followed, he made straight for 182 John 
street. From an alley-way opposite, Billy watched 
the house until Driggs came out. When he did 
so, he was accompanied by Guyon to the door, and 
a few minutes’ conversation took place between 
them, in which Guyon seemed to oppose something 
Driggs was saying. However, the two men at last 
shook hands, and the officer shadowed his man to 
the corner of Longworth and Plumb streets. 

This house was a notorious dive kept by a woman 
who called herself Mrs. Mary Brown. 

“ What the deuce does the old rip want here? ” 
thought the detective, For the first time he noticed 


A counterfeiter’s detective 155 

that the russet leather sachel had been left at John 
street. 

Just as he observed this fact the door of the 
house was opened, and the woman who appeared 
shook hands with Driggs. 

“ Aha! ” mused the detective. “ The old man is 
well known, evidently. But what in thunder does 
he want there — a man eighty years of age ? Let me 
see, now, what is he in Cincinnati for? To see Jim 
Guyon, of course. Why does he want to see Guyon ? 
Either to talk about the big deal, or to get more of 
the stuff. Suppose Jim has no stuff ready ? Driggs 
would go home. But if Jim has lots of it ready, 
would he be likely to keep it at the John street 
place? I guess not. I guess I’ll go over there and 
chance it anyway.” 

He was about to cross the road and enter the 
place, running all the risk of being recognized, when 
who should he see coming toward him but Officer 
Hardy, an old-time colleague. Billy stepped into 
a saloon doorway, and, as Hardy passed, called him 
in. 

“ What’s up, Billy? I thought you were in Day- 
ton,” was Hardy’s greeting. 

“ So I am,” returned Billy; “ but I’m down here 
for a few days on business. What’s new? ” 

“Oh, nothing particular. By the way, I saw 
quite a scrap this morning.” 

“ Amateur or professional? ” 

“ Just amateur, but it was right lively for a 
while till one fellow tried to draw a knife. You 
know George Cole? ” 


THE CONIACKERS 


156 

“ You bet; he married one of the Stadtfeldt girls.” 

“ Yes; sister of Driggs’ woman. Well, he was 
going down street this morning, and I was just be¬ 
hind him. All of a sudden a big, strong-looking 
fellow with a long beard ran up against him, and 
began putting the boots to him without a word. A 
man of fifty, I should say, but he fought like a ten- 
year-old, and mashed Cole to a pulp.” 

“ Who do you suppose it was? ” 

“ Give it up. He skinned out when the police 
turned up. ” 

“That was Jim Guyon, the man we’re after. 
While he was in hiding, Cole coaxed his wife away 
from him. I’ll bet money this is where he gets 
even. ” 

“ Well, I’m jiggered!” exclaimed Hardy. “ I’m 
glad I’ve seen him, for I’ll know him again.” 

Hall then hastily explained that he had seen 
Driggs and Guyon together that morning, and that 
he was watching for the old man to come out of 
Mary Brown’s place at that moment. 

“ Go over and see what they are up to,” he con¬ 
cluded. 

Hardy went, and was readily admitted, so Hall 
entered a saloon, from the window of which he 
could keep his eye on every person who went in or 
out of the notorious Mary’s “ castle”— for every 
man’s house is his castle, or woman’s either. 

For nearly two hours he waited and watched 
with the immutable patience of the Egyptian 
Sphinx, when Hardy reappeared, accompanied by 
three well dressed young fellows. 


A counterfeiter’s detective 157 

As they descended the steps, it was easy to be 
seen that they were all three under the influence of 
liquor. Hardy steered them right across the 
street to where he spotted Hall, who was by this 
time standing in the doorway, and the quartet en¬ 
tered the saloon. 

“ Hello, Billy! where did you jump from?” ex¬ 
claimed Hardy, pretending to be very much sur¬ 
prised at seeing Hall there. “ Come and join us — 
we are just going to have a drink.” 

He then introduced Hall to the three young fel¬ 
lows, being compelled to ask each one his name in 
order to make the introduction, and together they 
walked up to the bar and ordered refreshments. 

It soon transpired that the three men were 
strangers in Cincinnati who had come to town 
from Akron for the set purpose of having a “ time ” 
such as they dared not attempt at home without 
raising scandal. They had been drinking all the 
previous afternoon and late at night, and had been 
driven to Mary’s place by a hackman. There they 
had remained until Hardy found them, drinking 
and carousing. When Hardy got in, they had just 
demanded their money, which Mary insisted the 
night before should be put in her safe, “for fear 
something might happen to it,” and, on counting it 
over, there had been a dispute over five dollars. 

Hardy took their part, and one of the girls re¬ 
luctantly handed over the money, which she had 
“ pinched ” while handing the roll to the proprie¬ 
tress. 

Hence Hardy was invited to join the party in 


153 


THE CONIACKERS ' 


a continuation of the “ good time.” He refused to 
do that, but at last consented to take a drink with 
them, and had come to the saloon for that purpose. 

In payment for what had been ordered, one of 
them, whose name is withheld for very obvious 
reasons, it being enough to say that he is one of 
the most prominent young business men of Akron, 
laid a ten dollar note on the counter. 

Hall, whose eyes were as sharp as gimlets, 
spotted the “ Webster head ” at once, and picked it 
up, saying : 

“Excuse me — this is one of the ’75 issue — I 
thought they had all been called in by the Treas¬ 
ury long ago.” 

“ So it is,” said the young fellow, whom we shall 
call Charlie ; “ I haven’t seen one of them for a long 
time.” With this, he pulled out his roll, and, 
though there were six other tens none of them was 
of this issue. 

Hall and Hardy looked at each other signifi¬ 
cantly, and then Hall said : 

“ Did you two gentlemen also have your money 
in Mary’s safe last night ? ” 

Both replied in the affirmative. 

“ Then, said Hall, I’ll bet fifty dollars to thirty 
that each of you will find a ten dollar treasury note 
like this among your money.” 

" Of the same series?” asked Charlie. 

" The same series,” said Hall. 

“ That’s a good bet, boys,” advised Charlie ; “ I’ll 
take ten in it with you. I handle lots of money, 
as you fellows know, and I haven’t seen one of those 


A counterfeiter’s detective 159 

’75 series of tens in a year. I think it’s perfectly 
safe for us, and our friend here is a chump to offer 
it.” 

“ My bluff goes, and you fellows can call it if 
you want.” 

“ I’ll go in ten,’’said one of the trio; so the third, 
though somewhat suspicious of Hall’s confidence, 
decided to “ stay ” with his party. 

The money was put up in the bar-tender’s hands, 
and the other two rolls were “flashed.” Sure 
enough, just as Hall had predicted, each of them 
contained a much worn, greasy-looking “ Webster 
head.” 

“ Well, I’m d-d,” was Charlie’s comment ; 

“ I’d have bet even on this thing. However, we’ve 
lost, so pay over the stuff, bar-keeper, and I’ll take 
a small bottle on this man.” 

“ That’s all right,” said Billy, taking the money ; 
“ open a quart of Pommery sec, bar-keeper, and 
join us.” 

“ How did you call the turn ? ” asked Charlie. 

“ Just by guess,” returned Hall, “ and I’ll tell you 
what, if it’s all the same to you, gentlemen, I’d like 
to take those three tens in exchange for this money; 
I believe they’ll bring me luck.” 

Nothing loth, the three “ Webster heads ” were 
placed in Hall’s hands, and he turned over thirty 
dollars in good money for them. 

Driggs’ visit to Mary Brown was fully explained. 
Mary was engaged in “ shoving the queer.” 

From this time on, the dive was frequented by 
officers, each of them taking a turn at the job, and 



l6o THE CONIACKERS 

plenty of evidence was obtained to show that even 
Nelson Driggs did not distribute as much of the 
bogus stuff as did Mary Brown. 

All kinds of people, sporting men, farmers, 
country store-keepers, and even a city official, were 
detected in the act of getting “ green goods” from 
this cyprian. 

But to return to Driggs. Hall waited for him 
until evening, being sure that he had not made his 
escape by the back way, and about seven o’clock 
his patience was rewarded by the old man coming 
out of the house, carrying a candy box, which he 
held by its pink tape handle. 

Hall shadowed him back to Dayton on the even¬ 
ing train, and the next morning, when the chief 
asked for $3 50 in short green, Mrs. Driggs opened 
a drawer behind the bar, in which there were a lot 
of odds and ends, and, taking from it a candy box 
with a pink tape handle, counted out the required 
amount, and handed it to him. 


CHAPTER XII. 

MARY BROWN’S “ DIVE. ” 

Billy Hall had been on duty so constantly for a 
fortnight, that, when he arrived at Dayton late at 
night, he tumbled into bed at once to secure a 
good, sound sleep. He knew very well that Driggs 
would go straight home, and, having made his 
important discovery of Mary Brown’s connection 
with Guyon and Driggs, he felt himself justly enti- 



MARY BROWN’S DIVE l6l 

tied to this refreshment before reporting to his 
chief. 

His intention was to get up at seven o’clock and 
call on Chief Bell before he had breakfast, but 
nature asserted her rights, as she invariably does, 
sooner or later, and, once in the grasp of sleep, 
the detective did not even roll over until he 
opened his eyes in the morning. When he did so, 
the sun was high, and the noise in the street warned 
him that the hour must be late. Putting his hand 
under his pillow, he pulled out a handsome gold 
watch and looked at the time. 

“ Great Jehoshaphat! ” he exclaimed, “twelve 
o’clock! I’ll bet the chief has gone East, and I’ve 
missed him.” 

Hurriedly he tumbled into his clothes and scur¬ 
ried to the chief’s hotel, only to find his expecta¬ 
tion confirmed. John S. Bell was on his way to 
Washington, and the instructions left were that all 
reports must be sent there for three days. 

Considerably disappointed and disgusted with 
himself, Hall sat down and wrote a voluminous re¬ 
port of yesterday’s doings, which followed Bell to 
Washington by the next train. 

On receipt of this very weighty report, the chief 
sent a cipher dispatch to McManus at Hartford, 
telling him to wire Mrs. Driggs and Miller to meet 
Mr. Williams at Cincinnati July 9th. 

Mrs. Driggs received this message herself, and 
handed it over to her husband. 

“ He seems mighty hot to close out this big 


The Coniacker. n 


162 


THE CONIACKERS 


deal” said Nelse, after reading it, “ but Jim don’t 
want to let him have the stuff so dirt cheap.” 

“ Jim always was a fool, outside of his business,” 
was Gertie’s answer. “ What does he want? The 
earth? ” 

“ Well, Jim’s looking for the best of it, like all 
the rest of us,” returned Driggs, “ and, as he does 
all the hard work, I suppose he has a right to some 
say in the matter. We don’t do anythin’ but cir¬ 
culate what he sweats over makin’.” 

“ Oh, rats! ” said Gertie, impatiently; “ we take 
all the risks. He is so blamed cautious that he 
won’t even tell you where the plant is, and he 
never comes around here at all, for fear of being 
grabbed. It looks to me as if we had a right to 
about two-thirds, instead of half the profits, and 
as big a say as he has, if not bigger, about the 
price. I never had any use for him, anyway ; he’s 
too big a coward.” 

“ Thumped Cole pretty good for a coward,” said 
Driggs, sententiously. 

“ Yes, he got at him before Cole knew he was 
coming. Anyway, ’Lize says she wouldn’t live 
with Guyon again if he was worth a million.” 

“ Well, I suppose you’ll have to go to Cincin¬ 
nati with Sep, and see about this thing; but I wish 
we could meet Guyon and have a good talk first, so 
as to know just what we’re going to do about it.” 

“ What’s the matter with Jim meeting us at Ham¬ 
ilton? We can go that way as easy as not, and 
of course he won’t show up in Cincinnati if Sep’s 
around.” 


MARY BROWN’S DIVE 163 

“ That’s a good scheme, Gerty. I’ll wire him 
right away.” 

Consequently “Mr. Dusenberry” received a dis¬ 
patch which read: 

“ Hamilton to-morrow, sure. Important. An¬ 
swer. N. D.” 

Late at night the answer came: 

"OK. J. G.” 

Driggs, who waited in Dayton for the answer, 
then wired to “McWilliams: ” 

“All right; at Crawford House. Gerty.” 

This dispatch was received by McManus, and 
forwarded in cipher to the chief at Washington.” 

When Nelse, Gerty and Sep arrived at Hamilton 
the next day, they went at once to the house of a 
woman well known to the gang. She had been a 
member of it formerly, but had since retired from 
" shoving the queer ” to live in elegant retirement 
as the mistress of a Hamilton merchant. 

They found Guyon already there, and, after a 
short chat with their hostess, the latter, accompa¬ 
nied by the attorney, went out to do her marketing, 
leaving the others free to talk business. 

Nelse opened the confab by asking Guyon how 
he got along with the big pile of stuff for Mac. 

“ I’m getting on all right,” he answered; “ but, if 
there is any way to get that $4,725 besides giving 
up the * green,’ I’m in for gittin’ it.” 

“ How do you propose to do it? ” asked Gerty. 
" Mac’s a shrewd, cool fellow, and you can’t 
boodle him with sawdust, tissue paper or any of 


THE CONIACKERS 


164 

that flubdub. He’s got to see and examine the 
goods before he gives up. He does that always 
with me.” 

“ And me, too,” assented Nelse. 

A cynical, cruel smile illumined Guyon’s sinister 
face a moment, and then he asked, suddenly: 

“ Are you sure Mac hasn’t been lying straight 
along? ” 

“ Certain! ’’answered Gerty and her spouse, both 
in one breath. 

“ He says this deal isn’t for himself alone? ” 

“ Yes, there are two others in it,” replied Gerty, 
promptly. 

“ Then, he has given us away to these two 
friends? ” 

“ Nothing of the sort. They don’t know where 
the stuff comes from any more than the man in the 
moon.” 

“ So, when he leaves Hartford, they don’t know 
where he is going? ” 

“ They think he goes to Boston. He told me 
how cleverly he fixed that. ” 

“ So, if he never came back, they wouldn’t know 
where to look for him, would they? 

The full meaning of this speech did not dawn on 
Gerty at first, so she replied, promptly: 

“ Of course not.” 

Driggs understood Guyon’s meaning, but said 
nothing. 

“ He is a single man? ” continued Guyon. 

“ Yes. He told me he had no wife, family, or 
near relatives.” 


MARY BROWN’S DIVE 


165 

“ Then,” said Guyon, with villainous emphasis, 
* if he disappears, it isn’t likely anybody’ll hunt 
after him much? ” 

Gerty looked frightened. The idea of murder 
had never suggested itself to her before, and being 
brought thus suddenly face to face with it had the 
effect of a sudden douche of ice water. 

“ It could be done easy enough,” replied Driggs, 
breaking silence for the first time. “ Suppose’n 
we warn him to come late at night, and that the 
trade must be completed and him away before 
daylight. Suppose’n he comes, and after a talk 
sees the stuff and flashes the roll, what’s to prevent 
him bein’ suddenly cracked from behind with an 
ax?” 

“Everything!” cried Gerty, whose first horror 
by this time had commenced to wear off. “ It 
would leave blood all over the place, to begin with; 
Pat or his wife might hear him cry out, in the sec¬ 
ond place, and, if there was any noise, Emma would 
be sure to hear it. ” 

“ Gerty’s right,” said Guyon. “ There are plenty 
of ways to do up a man besides spillin’ blood.” 

“ How would you do it? ” asked Driggs, the evil 
glare in his eyes showing that, under his outward 
cool, calm manner, the fires of a murderous hell 
were burning. 

“ My plan is good and simple,” replied Guyon. 
“ Let him come to Dayton, get his stuff, and pay 
for it. Everything’ll be all nice and pleasant. 
Then, when he has his stuff packed up, persuade 
him to wait till night, so’s not to be seen leavin’ 


THE CONIACKERS 


166 

the place. Pretend that suspicious-lookin’ folks 
has been layin’ about for a few days, and that you 
are skeered they are detectives; that, if they see 
him leavin’ the house, he may be arrested and the 
stuff found on him. Of course that’ll hold him as 
strong as a loggin’ chain. Then, in the evenin’, 
we’ll have a few drinks. I’ll provide a big dose of 
morphine, say five or six grains, and mix that up 
in a glass of fine brandy. Then let Nelse get 
blowin’ about some fine brandy he’s got in, and 
bring in a glass apiece all around for a sample. 
Have the doctored glass be a different pattern from 
all the rest, and serve Mac last, so’s he’ll get the 
one with the morphine. He’ll never taste the drug, 
and in twenty minutes he’ll be sound asleep. Once 
he’s asleep all the doctors this side of kingdom 
Come couldn’t wake him. 

“ Very well, we carry him up-stairs and put him 
to bed, all nice and reg’lar, rigister him as * John 
McWilliams, Chicago,’ and in the mornin’some one 
finds him still alive, but without one chance in a 
million to get over it. Two or three doctors are 
called in to see what’s the matter with the man that 
can’t be wakened up. They go to work on him, 
and he dies on their hands. 

“ The coroner’s jury will bring it in suicide, as 
sure as you live, more particular if his watch, chain, 
papers and all that are found O K.” 

What devilish ingenuity! 

What cruel, calculating wickedness! 

The plot was so very nearly perfect that it fairly 
took away Nelse Driggs’ breath. 


MARY BROWN’S DIVE 167 

Good God!” he gasped, “how did you ever 
plan that out? ” 

Again that sinister smile played over Guyon’s 
face for a moment, before he replied. 

“ When I was up in Canady I used to chum with 
a backwoods drugger. This fellow used to squirt 
morphine into his arm because he liked the effects 
of it, and we often use to talk about it. When 
he’d get loaded with the drug, just for fun he’d spin 
me stories of queer murders of all sorts that he’d 
make up out of his own head. Among ’em was 
one done just this way. I reckon the morphine 
kind o’ made him dream dreams, and him wide 
awake all the time. That’s the way it affected me 
one time when I let him squirt some into my arm 
to try it.” 

“ But, if he was out of his head like when he 
told you this story,” objected Gerty, “ maybe he 
didn’t tell you rightly how much it would take and 
all that.” 

“ Well, as for that,” returned Guyon, “ my curi¬ 
osity wasburnin’, and I read up the subject in one 
of his drug books. Oh, I’ve got that all right. ” 

Gerty sat silently considering the plot for a few 
minutes, and then said: 

“ There is only one thing I can see against it — 
he mightn’t stay after all our coaxing.” 

“ Yes, he would,” asserted Guyon, “ if it came 
to a show-down between stayin’ and leavin’ the 
green stuff behind him. Leave that to Nelse and 
me, and I’ll bet we’ll convince him that* startin’ 
before two o’clock in the mornin’ would be a fool 


168 


THE CONIACKERS 


trick, when at that hour he can catch the New York 
fast express and go clear East almost without a 
stop.” 

“ Then, there is another thing,” objected Gerty, 
“ the stuff mightn’t work. ” 

“ Yes, and, if I pick this chair up off the floor and 
let go of it, it mightn’t fall,” returned Guyon, by 
way of illustration. 

“ Besides,” continued the women, “if you buy 
the morphine, that will leave trace of you that 
might be run down.” 

Guyon grimly took from his breast pocket an old 
green leather wallet. Opening it, he took out a 
package wrapped in paper and tin foil, and, opening 
this again, it was seen to contain a number of neatly 
folded little packages, done up in waxed paper and 
tin foil. 

“ There,” he said, opening one of them, and dis¬ 
playing a small quantity of white powder, “each 
one of these six packs just holds a man’s life. I’ve 
carried ’em for three years. Once there was seven 
of ’em.” 

“Where did you get ’em, Jim,” asked Driggs, 
who with Gerty bent over the package, which 
seemed to fascinate them. 

“ My friend the drugger weighed them out and 
put them up for me before I left that part of the 
country. He did it one day when he was reckless 
from using the drug himself,” answered Guyon, 
triumphantly. 

“ Just to think,” said Gerty, “ swallow that tiny 
bit of powder, and nothing on earth can save you! ” 


MARY BROWN’S DIVE 


169 


“ Nothin’ on top of earth,” repeated Guyon, as 
he rewrapped and replaced the morphine in his 
wallet. 

Gerty then made one final objection. 

“ He might taste it in the brandy, or it mightn’t 
mix with it,” she said. 

“ It is nearly tasteless in water, and perfectly so 
in brandy, and it will melt as easy as possible in a 
teaspoonful of water, and will stay melted when it 
is put into the brandy. When it begins to work 
on him, he’ll just feel as if he was gettin’ a little bit 
full, and then, before he knows it, he’ll be sound 
asleep.” 

That closed the discussion. No formal agree¬ 
ment was made, but it was tacitly understood be¬ 
tween the three that Chief of United States Detect¬ 
ives Bell, under the name of Andrew McWilliams, 
of Hartford, whom they intended to metamorphose 
into John McWilliams, of Chicago, should be treach¬ 
erously and foully murdered for the sake of not 
quite five thousand dollars. 

When this conclusion had been reached, these 
people, whose criminal means of living had ren¬ 
dered them utterly callous of everything, even the 
sacredness of human life, laughed and chatted with¬ 
out one sign of mental disturbance or guilty fear 
for the awful deed they had plotted. 

When their hostess and Miller returned and the 
dinner was prepared, it is to be doubted whether 
any jollier party ever assembled, and none were 
gayer than the three who were about to stain their 
souls with murder. 


170 


THE CONIACKERS 


At three o’clock, on the afternoon of Tuesday, 
July 9th, Chief Bell entered the parlor of the Craw¬ 
ford House in Cincinnati. 

As he did so, Gerty, beautifully dressed and 
looking her prettiest, arose to greet him. At the 
same moment Sep Miller crossed the room from 
the window, out of which he had been looking. 

“ Well, how are you two, anyway? ” said the 
chief, giving a hand to each of them. 

“ Splendid,” replied Gerty. " I always am when 
I’m away from the old man for a spell, and Sep al¬ 
ways feels better out of Dayton — eh, Sep? ” 

“ Well,” laughed the chief, who of course was 
well aware of the relations between them, “ you’d 
better look out, or Nelse may take it into his head 
to go gunning some day.” 

“ Not much,” said Gerty. “ Well, I’m going out 
to do a little shopping on the quiet; so I’ll leave 
you to keep Sep company till I come back.” 

“ Don’t be long,” called the chief, “ for I’m going 
to take you out to the Highland House to supper.” 

“ You’re the stuff, Mac,” replied the Jezebel, as 
she left the room. 

The chief talked to Miller for some time about 
the big deal, and was assured that the stuff was 
being got ready. In fact, the first $3,000 had been 
taken to Dayton. 

Gerty had instinctively kept all knowledge of the 
murderous plot from Miller. She felt that to admit 
her connection with anything of that sort would be 
sufficient to turn him against her. Miller had never 
done anything more criminal than to hide his knowl- 


MARY BROWN'S DIVE 


171 


edge of the gang’s transactions, and even she had 
been unable to persuade him to do anything 
“ crooked.” 

He had been infatuated with the woman at one 
time, and she did not know that his jealousy had 
turned that guilty love to hate. She believed he 
was as much her lover now as ever, and felt that, 
after the crime had been done, she could persuade 
him that” Mac ” really had committed suicide. 

On Gerty’s return, they drove to the Highland 
House, where, after supper, they had several 
drinks, and listened to the music. 

“ I wish,” said Gerty, as the waiter went away 
with two good five-dollar notes which the chief 
had given him in liquidation of the bill, “ I do wish 
I had a few tens with me; I’d ( shove ’ them here.” 

“ Nonsense,” said the chief; “ this is too near 
home, you might get into trouble.” 

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t,” returned Gerty. “ I’m 
too old a hand at the business. Now, this after¬ 
noon I spent $36.50 in one house, and it just broke 
my heart to give up the long green ten-dollar bills 
— four of them. 

“ Suppose one had been crooked? The chances 
are that no one would have found it out, and, if 
they had, do you think they would have suspected 
me? Not a bit of it! I’d have carried on, and 
vowed I knew who gave it to me, cried a little when 
they told me it was no good, and, if I couldn’t fool 
them, my name shouldn’t be Gerty Miller.” 

This “ break ” showed that the wine she had 
swallowed was beginning to take effect on her. 


THE CONIACKERS 


172 

“ Oh, you think you are pretty fly people,” said 
the chief, jokingly, “ but I don’t believe you could 
1 work off ’ any of it.” 

“ Couldn’t I? ” retorted Gerty, boastfully; “ don’t 
fool yourself. I’ll bet I can disguise myself and 
come and talk to you and you won’t know me. 
Why, in Memphis, I went out in the morning in 
one disguise and shoved $140. In the afternoon I 
rung in a complete change, and did up more suck¬ 
ers for $80; and, in the evening, I went out 
dressed as a boy, and did up two theaters and a 
couple of saloons for $40 more. Oh, I’m not a 
bit slow at ‘ shinning ’ — I was born in the busi¬ 
ness.” 

“ Born in the business? ” queried the chief. 
" How was that? ” 

“Why,” answered Gerty, in some surprise, 
“ didn’t you know I was a Stadtfeldt? ” 

“ I’m not any wiser now,” returned Chief Bell, 
with an assumption of great ignorance on a subject 
he knew backwards. 

“ Then, I’ll enlighten you,” said Gerty. “ My 
father and mother were the real beginners of the 
business in this country. The poor old governor 
was an engraver, and a good one, who had to leave 
Europe on account of a fancied resemblance the 
government found in some of his work to some of 
theirs. Maybe they thought he was going to hurt 
their business, or something. Anyway, rather 
than have any unpleasantness about the matter, 
the old man got himself put into a hogshead and 
shipped to Antwerp. Poor old chap, he had a 


MARY BROWN’S DIVE 


173 


dreadful time of it for a few days, being stood on 
his head and dumped around generally.” 

“ That was pretty tough treatment,” said Miller; 
“ he ought to have sued the transportation com¬ 
pany for damages.’ 

“ Oh, he got all the damages he could put up 
with,” retorted Gerty, as quick as a flash. 

“ Anyway, he got over here, and my mother 
joined him with the two boys. Seeing that the 
government didn’t treat the people well by not 
giving the paper currency, and objecting to bank¬ 
ing monopolies on political grounds, my father 
started to work and increased the circulation, with 
my mother’s assistance. Of course, all the children 
were brought up to the same trade.” 

“ Well, I declare!” said Bell; “ I didn’t know this 
thing was born with some people like strawberry 
marks and port wine spots.” 

“ But it is,” returned Gerty, seriously; “ there 
were three girls and two boys in our family, and 
we’re all in it except one sister. My other sister 
was married to Dusenberry, but she quit him be¬ 
cause he’s a cur. ” 

The chief had been wondering how he could 
broach the subject of Mary Brown. All he knew 
of her was contained in Hall’s report, and her 
name had never been mentioned by one of the 
gang. Gerty and Miller were chatting together, 
while he smoked his cigar and pondered over the 
subject. 

Just at that moment a boy came along selling 
bouquets, and, noticing that Gerty glanced eagerly 


174 


THE CONIACKERS 


at the flowers, the chief called the boy and bought 
a bunch of beautiful Jack roses. 

“ Here are some counterfeits of your cheeks, 
.Gerty,” he said, gallantly, as he handed the flowers 
to her. 

“ Thanks,” she replied, with a smile, accepting 
them with a graceful little bow. Then, turning to 
Miller, she said: 

“ You’d better get Mack to give you some lessons 
in paying compliments, Sep. That was a right 
pretty one.” 

She then undid the wire and pinned a bud on 
the chief’s coat, and, seeing that Miller looked an¬ 
noyed, she performed a like offlce for him, saying: 

“ There, sour-mash, you’ve got nothing to be 
jealous about. I treat you both alike.” 

“ Not quite,” remarked the chief drily, at which 
pleasantry all three laughed. 

“ I tell you what it is,” he continued; “ all I want 
now is a girl of my own; you two spoonies make 
me envious. I believe I’ll just walk around awhile 
and see if I can’t make a mash, too.” 

“ Don’t you do anything of the kind,” said Gerty, 
quickly, “ I know where there are some right pretty 
girls that don’t attend Sunday school very regularly, 
and we’ll go and see them after a bit, if you like. 
What do you say, Sep? ” 

“ Mary’s?” inquired Miller. 

“Yes,” returned Gerty. “I have to see her 
anyway before I go home, you know.” 

“All right,” returned Miller, “what you say 
goes.” 


MARY BROWN’S DIVE 


175 


The chief’s heart beat a little faster at this. Fate 
had thrown him the very thing he most wished for, 
by sending the boy along with the flowers, and he 
could now investigate Mary Brown and her crooked 
methods at his leisure. 

Shortly after eight o’clock a carriage drove up to 
the mansion at the corner of Longworth and Plum 
streets, and from it descended Gerty, her lover, the 
attorney, and Chief Bell. 

The door was opened by a rather good-looking 
colored woman, whose neatly brushed hair and 
snowy apron made her look wholesome and tidy. 

“ Yes, Miss Brown is home,” she said, in reply to 
a question. “ Please walk in de pa’lo’ and set 
down.” 

The rustling of starched skirts was soon heard, 
and Mary Brown, a very prepossessing woman of 
apparently thirty years entered. After greeting 
Gerty effusively, she was introduced to the strangers, 
and Gerty said, “ You must treat Mr. Mac well, 
Mamie, for he is one of us.” 

“ I’m very pleased to see you,” said Mary, in a 
rich, musical voice; “ won’t you sit down? ” 

Then, going to^the electric bell, she summoned 
the colored girl, and said : " The bottle on the ice, 
Julia.” 

“ Yes ma’am,” replied the girl, who immediately 
left the room. 

The conversation became general at once, and 
after the wine came, they were a merry party. 

“ You have a pretty nice place here,” said the 
chief, after chatting to Mary for some minutes. 


176 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ But not half so nice as it will be before I’m 
through with it,” she answered. 

Bell was anxious to open a conversation about 
the “ Webster heads,” when suddenly he espied a 
steel engraving of Governor Bill Allen hanging on 
the wall in a handsome frame. He recognized it 
at once, and, excusing himself, walked over to it as 
if for a closer examination. This had the effect of 
drawing Mary away from Gerty and Miller, who 
seemed to have no attention for any person but 
each other. Miller, who detested the woman by 
this time, knew that he had to play his part now 
till the curtain fell, for, if he gave Gerty the slight¬ 
est cause for suspicion that his friend Mac was not 
on the square, he knew that a little silver-mounted 
revolver he had given her a year before would be 
turned against him in an instant. Mr. Miller had 
no particular desire to pose as an interesting corpse, 
so he was just as attentive and lover-like as ever, 
the moment they were beyond the range of Nelse 
Driggs’ eyesight. 

“That is a beautiful piece of work,” said the 
chief, after looking a few moments at the portrait. 

“ Yes,” replied Mary, “ it was done by Charlie 
Ulrich, while he was in the penitentiary. You 
know, of course, that he did one of the plates for 
that ten Gerty handles. Well, he got tired of 
doing nothing, so he asked the warden one day if 
he couldn’t have his tools, and any old bit of steel 
that might be handy. The warden of course 
laughed, and asked if he wanted to turn the ‘ pen’ 
into a private mint. * Oh, no/ says Charlie, r one 


MARY BROWN’S DIVE 


1 77 


of the guards has a photo of Governor Allen, and 
I want to engrave a picture of him to kill time.’ 
Election was coming that fall, and the governor 
was going to run again, so the warden thought it 
might be a good political move to have a fine 
portrait of him. Anyway, he let Charlie have the 
tools, and a piece of an old saw blade. Charlie 
went to work, and that is one of the prints from 
his plate.” 

“ It’s a dandy,” said Mac, “ if it’s a good like¬ 
ness.” 

“ They say it’s the best the governor ever had. 
After he saw it, he went to the ‘ pen,’ and saw 
Charlie, who promised he’d never do another 
crooked trick, so Allen got him a pardon for a 
birthday present.” 

“ What became of him? ” asked Bell, who knew 
the record of Charles Ulrich, the greatest engraver 
that ever lived in America, as well as he knew his 
prayers. 

“ He’s been dead for a good while now,” an¬ 
swered Mary, “ and was buried here in Cincinnati.” 

“ So he made one of the plates? ” said Bell, after 
a moment’s silence. 

“Yes,” replied Mary, “ he made the front, all 
except the ‘ Ten ’ and the seal. But suppose I call 
the ladies? ” 

“ Yes, do,” said Bell, who had picked out of her as 
much information as he thought was safe at one 
sitting. 

Going to the foot of the stairs, Mary called: 


The Coniackers 12 


i;8 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ Girls ! come down — company! ” and a moment 
later a bevy of sirens, accompanied by the “ frou¬ 
frou ” of starched skirts, entered the room and re¬ 
ceived introductions to the visitors. 

McWilliams, Gerty and Miller, each in their 
turn ordered champagne, the piano player engaged 
by the establishment evoked floods of harmony 
from the instrument, and the jollity was kept up 
as is usual in such places until after twelve o’clock. 
When they parted, an engagement was made 
to meet at Mary’s in the morning, and then 
Gerty and Miller went to their hotel, while the 
chief returned to the “ Palace ” and was soon fast 
asleep. 

In the morning they all met as arranged, at 
Mary Brown’s, and, after a short chat, which was 
principally about the increased size of their heads 
on account of the " racket ” of the night before, 
Gerty and Miller left to buy a birthday present for 
old man Driggs, and the chief, promising to wait 
for them, was left alone with Mary. 

“How long have you been ‘shoving,’ Mac?” 
asked Mary,, thus opening the very conversation 
the chief was aching for. 

“ Nearly three months,” returned Bell, “ and I 
haven’t had the least sign of bad luck yet. I’m too 
careful of where, when and how I get rid of it to 
have anything traced down to me.” 

“ Besides,” said Mary, “ there’s very little danger 
in this stuff anyway. How much of it do you 
suppose there is afloat ? ” 


MARY BROWN’S DIVE 1 79 

“ There must be a good deal,” returned the 
chief. “ I have ‘ shoved ’ $2,000 of it myself.” 

“ Well, that isn’t a drop in the bucket,” asserted 
Mary. “ First and last $100,000 has gone into cir¬ 
culation, and some of the notes worked out ten 
years ago are in circulation yet. I have a friend 
who redeemed one of the old ones that was a good 
deal tattered, at the sub-treasury in Chicago. 
Why, I put from sixty to a hundred dollars a week 
afloat myself, right here.” 

“ How do you manage that? ” 

“ Suppose a man comes here and gets full, or 
comes in full; before he goes to bed I make him 
put his money in my safe. Then I skin off a good 
ten, and put one of ours in its place. Rich men 
mostly come to this house—lawyers, judges, mer¬ 
chants, sports and such, when they are visiting the 
town, always go off on a little toot, and, as I am 
known all over the State for an honest woman, they 
wind up here. Then, of course I have a big trade 
in the city, but I don’t often give any city boy the 
worst of it. I don’t believe in doing tricks too 
close to home. ” 

“ Didn’t Gertie tell me you supplied some of our 
boys? ” 

“ Why, yes. It wouldn’t do to have them all go 
to Dayton — the town ain’t big enough, and sooner 
or later they would be followed, and then old 
Driggs would get into the soup ; so they bring the 
stuff here and make their deals. One of my girls 
hands it over and gets the money, and none of 
those fellows think I know anything about it. 


i8o 


THE CONIACKERS 


She gives out that her lover makes the * goods/ 
and they swallow the yarn like beer.” 

“ That’s a smart trick too,” said Bell, to whom 
this was new light on the subject. “ I’m mighty 
disappointed this trip,” he continued, after a pause. 

“ How so? ” asked Mary. 

“ Gerty promised to have some stuff here for 
me, and she didn’t bring a cent.” 

“ I’m sorry for that,” said Mary, “ for I haven’t 
any either. I usually have a few thousand dollars 
in the safe, but it’s all gone. I’ll have lots in a few 
days, and so will Gerty. ” 

“ But that won’t do me any good just now,” 
said the chief. “ By the way, you said last night 
you were going on a trip to New York soon. When 
are you going? ” 

“ In a few days, and I’m laying out to have a 
boss time.” 

“ Where do you stop when you’re there? I’m 
going down to York myself, and I might meet you 
and take you for a swing around the circle.” 

“ I wish you would, Mac. I just want a nice 
fellow to take care of me,” she replied, as she took 
out a card and wrote an address on it. “ There,” 
she said, handing the card to him, “ I’ll be there a 
week from to-day, and, if you meet me, we’ll just 
have a dizzy time together. You’ll find that no 
man has to do all the ‘ putting up’ for me — I’m 
as good a spender as the best of them when I go 
in for fun. ” 

The chief looked at the card she had given him. 
On it was written: 


THE DEADLY MORPHINE 


181 


“NEW YORK HOUSE, 

Coney Island. 

Mrs. Kate Leary.” 


Mamie Brown. 


“ Kate Leary/’ thought the chief; “ Mary is going 
into swell society. ” Kate was the wife of “ Red 
Leary,” the most notorious and desperate burglar 
on the continent! 

“ All right, Mamie,” he said ; “ I’ll be there next 
Wednesday at about six o’clock in the evening. 
Don’t you make any other engagement, and we’ll 
go out and have some sport.” 

As Gerty and Miller did not return within a 
couple of hours, the chief left for Dayton to look 
after Nelse and Guyon. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

“ the deadly morphine.” 

The chief was now “ loaded for bear.” He had 
evidence in plenty to convict Nelse, Gerty and 
Mary Brown, but the game he was after was, first, 
Jim Guyon, and then $25,000 in counterfeit money, 
and, if possible, the plates and press. Notwith¬ 
standing all their efforts, the detectives had been 
unable to get even a hint of where the printing 
plant was operated, but Bell had good hopes of 
finding even this out before the final bolt was 
sped. One thing he was certain of: a new issue 




182 


THE CONIACKERS 


was being printed, and all the old stuff prepared 
ten years before had been used up. Things being 
in this state, the chief was determined to use all 
his shrewdness and risk his life to land Guyon 
behind the bars. 

Bad as he knew the people with whom he was 
dealing, to be, he never for an instant suspected 
that a plot to murder him was already hatched, and 
only waiting an opportunity to be put into action. 
In fact, so self-reliant and fearless was he, that 
from the very first he had gone among the coni- 
ackers totally unarmed. 

On arriving at Dayton, the first thing he did was 
to draw from the bank about $500, principally in 
$1 and $2 bills, and a hundred dollar bill as a 
“wrapper.” He made these up into as small a 
bundle as he could, with the hundred bill on top, 
and a very imposing lump of “ boodle” it seemed. 

When he made his appearance at the road house 
he was received with every manifestation of joy 
by Driggs and Gerty, the latter having returned 
from Cincinnati with Miller that afternoon. Bell 
was at once introduced to Donello as “ Mr. Jones.” 
Donello, alias Billy Myers, the Pittsburg gambler, 
and Mr. Jones shook hands as coolly as if they had 
never seen each other before, but did not seem to 
improve each other’s acquaintance. 

It was quite a galaxy of talent that sat down to 
the supper table that night at the Driggs house. 
Donello and Bell sat next to each other, with Driggs 
on the opposite side. Next to him there was a 
place set as if some one else were expected. Gerty 


THE DEADLY MORPHINE 


183 

sat at the head of the table, and Sep Miller faced 
her at the foot. The meal had not much more than 
commenced, when Guyon, unexpectedly to the 
chief, entered, and took his seat beside Driggs. 
Recognizing “ McWilliams,’’ he reached awkwardly 
across the table and shook hands with him. 

As is always the case where people labor under 
strong mental excitement which they endeavor to 
disguise from some one else, everybody, with the 
exception of Donello, or the “ Spaniard,” as he 
was invariably called, seemed to be in high spirits. 

Illustrative of this tendency, it is a curious fact 
that persons contemplating suicide, no matter how 
depressed and despondent they may have been 
previously, when they are with their friends or 
relatives for the last time before committing the 
deed, are in a preternaturally brilliant condi¬ 
tion. Wit bubbles from their lips, and their laugh¬ 
ter is seemingly of the gayest. They appear to 
have no care and no thought of trouble. 

So it was with these people to-night in the pres¬ 
ence of their intended victim; the chief himself 
and Miller, though not in the guilty secret, catch¬ 
ing the contagion of their mefriment. 

The Spaniard was, as usual, cold and silent, and 
did not open his mouth, or even smile, during the 
entire evening. 

Toward nine o’clock the sky became overcast, 
and gusty little puffs of hot wind warned the com¬ 
pany that a storm was about to burst over them; 
so the chief said: 

“ If we are going to town, Mr. Myers, we had 


THE CONIACKERS 


184 

better start before the rain commences. I guess 
we’re going to have a thunder shower.” 

* “ All right,” replied the silent Donello, going for 
his hat. 

“ Better take my umbrella, Mac,” suggested Nelse 
Driggs; “ but see and bring it back to-morrow, for 
it’s one Sep gave me, with a gold handle into it, 
and I wouldn’t lose it for a cow. I mightily value 
anything Sep gives me, I do.” 

As he said this in his dry, grim manner, Bell 
understood that the old man was only waiting for a 
good chance to " get even ” with Miller, whom he 
secretly hated. 

Together the two detectives returned to Dayton, 
and, when they were well away from the house, 
Donello said: 

“ I’ve got them again! ” 

“ How? ” 

“ $400 of the new issue.” 

“Good! You play your part to perfection, Do¬ 
nello, and I won’t forget the great assistance vou 
have given me.” 

“ Thanks. It suits me, this kind of job. I love 
the danger and excitement of it.” 

“ You will have to go to Cincinnati to-night, and 
keep a good lookout around 182 John street for 
Guyon. I want to know where to lay hands on the 
plant, if it can be got at.” 

“ If I can turn it up, you know I will,” returned 
Donello. 

The chief went to his hotel, and Donello, obey¬ 
ing instructions, proceeded to Cincinnati, where he 


THE DEADLY MORPHINE 185 

kept Mary Brown’s place and 182 John street under 
close watch, with the assistance of Hardy. 

For two or three days the chief was in and 
about Driggs’ place, talking to Guyon, pretending 
not to be anxious to know anything about his busi¬ 
ness, and each evening returning to Dayton at 
about eight o’clock. 

On the third day at about three o’clock, Caster 
and Abbott, under orders, drove up in their car¬ 
penter’s wagon for the purpose of getting a good 
look at Guyon; but as usual, the moment a stran¬ 
ger entered the place, the boss coniacker sneaked 
out of the back door, and made either for the driv¬ 
ing shed behind the tavern, or for a clump of 
woods about two hundred yards further back. 

After calling for a couple of drinks without 
appearing to take any notice of “ McWilliams,” 
who sat by the window in the bar-room, the latter 
gave them a sign unseen by Driggs, who was 
behind the bar with his back turned at that moment, 
and Caster said: 

“ What’s the matter with rattling the bones once ? ” 

“ I’ll just have to go you,” returned Abbott; 
“ give us the box, old man.” 

Driggs handed him the dice box, and Caster 
turned to the chief and said: 

“ Won’t you come in, stranger? It’s only for the 
beer.” 

" Don’t mind if I do. You come in too, Nelse,” 
Bell replied, as he lounged up to the bar. 

They shook dice for an hour, and then, as Guyon 
did not return, Abbott said: 


THE CONIACKERS 


186 

“ Well, we must mosey along to the home, or 
the boss’ll think we’ve gone out on strike.” So, 
shaking hands with Nelse and the chief, and getting 
outside of another beer at Nelse’s invitation, they 
took their departure. 

“ I don’t like those fellers hangin’ around here so 
much,” said Driggs, when they had gone; “ ’pears 
to me they waste a good deal of time for workin’ 
men.” 

“ They’re honest fellows enough,” returned the 
chief; “ they’re engaged in. our business — making 
a little extra money off the government.” 

Nelse laughed at this, but, wishing to lead up to 
Guyon’s plan for the murder, he pretended to be 
dissatisfied. 

“ There’s been two or three other strangers around 
here lately,” he said, “ that I ain’t stuck on a little 
bit. They maybe all right, but, with this big deal 
on hand, it makes me kind o’ nervous to see ’em 
about the place.” 

Bell thought Driggs was in earnest, and hinting 
at some of his men. In reality the old man had no 
more suspicion of a “ put up job ” than the child 
unborn. He was just inventing an excuse to keep 
Bell all night after the deed should have been com¬ 
pleted. 

Later on the chief showed the old man his “ pile,” 
and said: 

“ I wish you could lend me a gun — some one 
might hold me up for all this, coming from or going 
to town.” 

Driggs’ bleaty old eyes actually glittered when 


THE DEADLY MORPHINE 


187 


he saw this money, which Bell, inconvenient as it 
was, carried in his inside vest pocket. To do so, he 
had to leave the vest unbuttoned, but that did not 
matter, as the weather was warm. 

“ You just wait here a minute, and I’ll get you a 
44 bulldog,” said Driggs,who went up-stairs, return¬ 
ing in a few minutes with the weapon. 

“ I’d bank that pile somewheres if I was you,” 
he said, as he handed the pistol and some cartridges 
to Bell; “ you can draw it out as soon as the stuff 
is ready.” 

“ Oh no,” replied the chief; “ I don’t want to run 
any risks of being recognized. I’d sooner take care 
of it myself. ” 

Matters went along thus until Sunday, the men 
in Cincinnati reporting that Guyon was away, and 
that they could get no trace whatever of the plant. 
The chief, however, saw the boss coniacker every 
day toward evening; so he thought that, if he was 
printing the issue, he must be doing it close to the 
house. 

Guyon never staid in the house in the day-time 
for long — sometimes an hour or half an hour at a 
time, but usually he was out in the strip of woods 
behind the tavern. He was anxious that Hall 
should see Guyon in the house, so a plan was ar¬ 
ranged for this purpose. 

On Sunday, Billy hired a horse and buggy, and, 
taking one of the chambermaids at the hotel with 
him — you maybe sure she wasn’t the homeliest of 
them — drove out to Driggs’ place. They took 
several drinks, and old man Driggs and Gerty kept 


188 


THE CONIACKERS 


up a running fire of jokes about the “ kid” book 
agent and his girl. Billy stood this banter well, 
and the girl, having a pretty sharp tongue of her 
own, did not leave herself very much in Gerty’s 
debt. But the scheme did not work, innocent 
though it looked. Guyon kept out of sight until 
they had left. 

When he returned to the house, it was supper 
time, and, drawing the chief and Driggs aside, he 
said: 

“ Maybe I’m nervous, I don’t know; but I’ve 
seen that young feller hangin’ around here a num¬ 
ber of times already, and I mistrust somethin’.” 

" Who? That book agent? Oh, he’s all right,” 
said Driggs. He had got this far when he caught 
a warning glance from Guyon, and partly recalled 
his confident speech, by adding: “ Of course, these 
fly people always make you think they’re all right; 
that’s their business.” 

“ I skinned out because I mistrusted him,” con¬ 
tinued Guyon; “ though, when it comes to real 
danger, I’m there or thereabouts; eh, Nelse?” 

“ That you are, Jim; and a good keen nose for 
scenting danger, too, you have.” 

“ Oh, stuff! ” laughed Bell, “ I don’t see any¬ 
thing to be frightened at in a young kid like that. 
They don’t send boys to do men’s business.” 

With that, “ McWilliams ” left the two coniackers 
together and went up to his room for a nap. 

“ Where’s Gerty? ” asked Guyon, as soon as the 
chief’s door was heard to close. 

“ Up in the parlor.” 


THE DEADLY MORPHINE 


189 


“ Is Miller with her? ” 

“ No ; d-n him, and he won’t be. He’s in 

Cincinnati to-day.” 

“ Then, come along. I’ve got a plan to propose. ” 

As soon as the parlor doOrwas shut, Guyon said: 

“ We won’t have any better chance than to-night. 
There will be plenty of people about till late, and it 
can be proved we were all good friends. This is 
the time to give him the dose and get his money. ” 

“ How do you want to work it? ” asked Driggs. 

“Just the way I told you. I’ll fix the brandy 
along about twelve o’clock, if you keep him here. 
I can’t be seen, of course, but I’ll engineer the trick. 
Ask some one else into the party; it don’t matter 
who it is, and plant the doped glass on Mac. I’ll 
attend to havin’ a glass with a few drops of mor¬ 
phine and water, and the paper it was in, too, on 
his dresser after we carry him to bed.” 

“ But,” objected Gerty, “ suppose we haven’t any 
outsider to call in to the party.” 

“ Oh, rats! ” replied Guyon; “ there will be some 
one there, and I guess Nelse is smart enough to 
work off the right glass on Mac. I tell you, this is 
the safest thing in the world. There isn’t one 
chance in a million that there will ever be the least 
suspicion.” 

“ I’ll do it,” said Driggs, his old voice trembling 
with suppressed excitement, “ and it makes me feel 
young again to be in a job that will divide up 
$5,000 among three.” 

" I don’t care anything about Mac,” said Gerty; 
“ of course he drove a hard bargain, and all that, 



i go 


THE CONIACKERS 


but I must say I feel a little weak about this thing, 
when you propose to do it all of a sudden.” 

“ Bosh, Gerty! I thought you always braggea 
that a Stadtfeldt stuck at nothing, and would 
sooner run chances to get one dollar than work an 
honest hour for ten. ” 

“That’s the crowd I belong to!” exclaimed 
Gerty, with a flash of perverted pride; “ the Stadt- 
feldts don’t fear either man or devil. I’m with 
you.” 

“ Then, it will rest with you to keep him here. 
Can you do it? ” 

“ Did you ever see the man I couldn’t keep if I 
wanted? Why, even that iceberg, the Spaniard, 
wanted to squeeze me one day, for all he’s so shy 
and distant. You may trust me for keeping him.” 

Supper was over, and Guyon had again gone 
out, on account of the many people who kept 
arriving and departing again, as soon as they had 
refreshed themselves and their horses. 

In the parlor, Driggs was sitting in an arm¬ 
chair, when the chief asked him, suddenly: 

“ When am I to get this stuff ? I’m sick and 
tired of waiting for it so long.” 

“ It has been a long time,” answered Driggs, 
“ but it’s a big lot. I have $7,000 of it now, and 
I’ll go down to Cincinnati to-morrow, and see how 
soon I can get the rest.” 

“ I thought Dusenberry was making it,” said the 
chief, sharply. 

“ Then, you was wrong,” answered the old man, 
with a suspicious fire in his eyes, and a hard ring 


THE DEADLY MORPHINE 


191 

in his voice. “ Dusenberry does part of the work, 
but there are other hands on it besides his. That’s 
why it comes high, because so many have to share.” 

The entrance of Gerty interrupted the conversa¬ 
tion at this stage, and Driggs went to the bar to 
look after his customers. 

The chief and Gerty talked about the big deal 
for some time, and Gerty said : 

“ I could get rid of that much in a year, and never 
turn a hair. ” 

“ Yes you could ! ” said the chief. He always 
liked to tease Gerty because she was so conceited 
about her powers in “ shoving.” 

“ Just excuse me a minute or two,” she said, ap¬ 
pearing somewhat nettled as she left the room. 

In a few minutes a handsome young swell, 
dressed in a fine light suit, patent leather shoes, 
kid gloves, white plug hat, and with a large dia¬ 
mond blazing in his tie, entered the room. He 
was such a thorough-paced dude that the chief 
actually stared at him. His skin was fair, and, as 
he removed his hat and laid it on the table, he 
showed a head of black, curly hair, banged in the 
latest fashion. The boy seemed to be about 
twenty-one or twenty-two at the most. Walking 
over to the chief, he slapped him on the shoulder, 
and said : 

“ Where’s the bell, chappie? What’ll you drink? ” 

“ Excuse me, you have the advantage of me,” 
said the chief. 

With a burst of laughter Gerty took off the 
black wig, and said : 


192 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ Don’t you think I could take them in ? Why, 
I can change around so quick that it would take a 
smarter man than the average detective to ‘ pipe 
me off.’” 

“ That is the best disguise and the most com¬ 
plete change I ever saw,” said the chief, who really 
was astounded. 

“ Well, see how quickly I can be some one else. 
Supposing I have 4 shoved ’ some stuff, and I’m 
afraid there will be a ‘squeal. 1 I get back to the 
place I’m stopping at as soon as possible. Now 
wait.” 

Again she was gone but a few minutes. When 
she returned she was handsomely dressed in a 
tailor-made suit, with a jaunty cloth cap of the 
same material covering her blonde hair. She 
wore over-gaiters, and was just as much a swell as 
she had been the first time, only the sex was 
changed. But the thing which drew attention to 
the girl was a terrible scar across the left cheek. 
This was calculated to fill the beholder with pity that 
such a pretty face should be so terribly disfigured. 

“ Gerty,” said the chief, “ you are a wonder. 
No one would ever connect you now with the 
young dude of a few minutes ago. How did you 
fake up that scar? ” 

“That’s easy,” laughed Gerty, “but very fetch¬ 
ing. I just scratched my cheek with a gold pin, 
enough to leave a red mark without making it 
bleed. A little powder and carmine, or, better, a 
little grease paint like the actors use, and there it 
is. See, it will bear close inspection.” 


THE DEADLY MORPHINE 


193 


Chief Bell looked at it closely, and had to confess 
that it would deceive even him. 

Successively she appeared as a little sister of the 
poor, which was a most effective disguise, a poor, 
ill-dressed girl, and a woman approaching mater¬ 
nity. Each time the make-up was superb. 

In fact, Gerty Driggs was the greatest mistress of 
the art of disguise in America, beating the actresses 
on their own ground. Their disguises can be easily 
seen through at a distance. Hers were almost 
impenetrable close by. 

Of course all this gained time, which was the 
point Gerty was working for, and, before Chief Bell 
knew it, it was after 11:30 o’clock. 

“ I must get back to town,” he said, looking at 
his watch. 

“ Oh, you mustn’t go until twelve — we are going 
to watch the old man’s eightieth birthday in.” 

“ Well, if that’s the case, I’ll stay,” said the 
chief. 

A few minutes later a party of young men, 
accompanied by a number of women of entirely 
/^doubtful reputation, came up-stairs, accompanied 
by Driggs. Introductions were made, and drinks 
were brought in. There were ten in the party 
altogether, and, after a number of “ rounds ” had 
been indulged in, the strangers rose to leave. 

“ I’m not going home to-night,” announced one 
of the women. 

“ Oh, come on, Maud,” insisted the others; but 
Maud was drunkenly obstinate, and vowed that she 

The Coniackers 13 


194 


THE CONIACKERS 


and her “ Harry ” were going to stay there in spite 
of all remonstances. Seeing that she was bent on 
it, one of the young men whispered something to 
“ Harry,” and then the others, after saying “ good 
night,” left Maud and Harry with Driggs, Gerty 
and the chief. 

Nothing could have suited Guyon’s plans better 
if he had controlled the actions of this drunken 
courtesan. 

Guyon, in stocking feet, watched the proceedings 
through the half-opened door, and then, slipping 
away noiselessly, mixed the fatal dose, and waited 
for Driggs’ coming. 

Meanwhile, Driggs, with Gerty’s.assistance, had 
adroitly turned the conversation to the subject of 
liquors. 

“ The best liquor in the world, and the most 
wholesome,” said Bell, “ is a sound American 
whisky, with age enough to correct the fusel oil.” 

“ Whisky ain’t a patch on a good French brandy, ” 
said Driggs. 

“ That’s what I like,” chimed in Maud; “ only 
you don’t get much of it good. It’s mostly stuff 
fixed up with drugs, so a gentleman friend of mine 
told me.” 

“ I’ve got in some of the genuine article,” said 
Driggs, in a cool, calm voice; though, if John S. 
Bell had been in the least suspicious, he would have 
noticed a slight paleness in the face, a trembling 
and a nervous opening and closing of the fingers, 
together with a baleful glare in the cunning old 
eyes—the outward signs of the inward emotion. 


THE DEADLY MORPHINE 


195 


“ Brin g US a sample of it,” suggested Harry, who 
supplemented this by asking : “ Is it case or bulk, 
Martel or Hennessy ? ” 

“ Hennessy’s best, ten years in wood, and two in 
the bottle,” replied Driggs, as he got up from his 
chair, gathered the empty glasses from the table, 
put them on the tray, and left the room. 

“ I could drink brandy till I was speechless,” 
asserted Maud, who was not very far from that con¬ 
dition even then, “ and keep it up the day after,” 
she continued. 

“I like a drop of good brandy myself,” said 
Gerty; “ especially, hot, just before going to bed on 
a cold night.” 

“ Either then or when you’ve had a good 
wetting,” agreed the chief. 

In a few minutes Driggs returned with five 
glasses on the tray, each half full of brandy ; a 
small pitcher of ice water, and a bottle of seltzer. 

“ That’s what I call liquor,” he said, as he set the 
tray down for a moment, and put the water and 
seltzer on the table. “ If you want to get the 
flavor of it,” he continued, “ you’ll jest drink the 
liquor first, and take the water, if you want any, 
after. This don’t need' water, anyway, for it’s as 
mild as milk.” 

Four of the glasses were of the ordinary thin, 
bar-room pattern, while the fifth had a spray of 
leaves engraved around the top. This one con¬ 
tained five grains of morphine. 

The old villain’s hand shook as he passed the 
brandy first to Maud and her Harry, then to Gerty, 


196 


THE CONIACKERS 


and then, turning the tray so that the doped glass 
should be next to Bell’s hand, he passed it to the 
chief. 

“ I’ll take the little one,” said Bell, reaching for 
the other glass, which contained a trifle less liquor 
than did the odd one. 

“ Oh git out,” exclaimed Driggs, excitedly, draw¬ 
ing the tray back, “ you haven’t drunk har’ly any¬ 
thin’, and can stand that little drop all right.” With 
this, he set his own glass on the table and handed 
the other to Bell. 

The chief raised the glass to his lips and was 
about to drink, when the clock on the mantelpiece 
began to strike twelve. 

“ Wait a minute, don’t drink yet,” said Gerty; 
“it is twelve o’clock, and my old man is eighty years 
old. Let us drink his health, and many happy re¬ 
turns.” 

“ Happy returns,” chimed in everybody. 

Gerty set the example by clinking her glass 
against Driggs’, and Maud followed by clinking 
with Harry, so the chief was left out in the cold. 
Noticing this, Maud staggered across to where he 
stood, and said, in a thick voice : 

“ Not going to leave you out, Mr. McWilliams; 
let her go!” As she finished speaking, she brought 
her glass with a crash against the poisonous mix¬ 
ture Bell held in his hand, shattering both glasses, 
and sending the deadly liquid in a shower over the 
new carpet. 

“ Damn her,” exclaimed Driggs, beneath his 
breath. 


THE DEADLY MORPHINE 


197 


Gerty paled as she saw the plot foiled at the 
very moment of success, but, quickly recovering 
herself, she said: 

“ Why, Maud ! I believe you must be a little off. ” 

“ ’Scuse me,” said Maud, “ my foot slipped, or 
something. I hope the glass didn’t cut your hand. ” 

“ Oh, no,” said the chief, wiping his wrist and 
linen cuff with his handkerchief; “ the only harm 
done was to spill the brandy.” 

" Then, wait a minute, and I’ll bring two more 
glasses — I know where it is, Nelse — I’ll get it,” 
said Gerty. 

As she left the room, Nelson Driggs, on whom 
this utterly unexpected accident had a most pecu¬ 
liar effect, sank back in his arm-chair, his face 
livid, his eyes glaring, and his breath coming in 
fluttering gasps. 

Bell was too much occupied in drying off the 
brandy and escaping the well meant but silly atten¬ 
tions of the intoxicated cyprian, to look at him. 

Without taking any notice of what was trans¬ 
piring around him, Nelse muttered to himself: 

“Downed!—downed by a woman! Drinking 
many returns of my birthday, but interrupted by 
the smashing of two glasses. It’s bad luck — bad 
luck — it means two of us — Gerty and me. Curse 
the woman, I wish she’d staid in Dayton ! ” 

Meanwhile Gerty, bent on succeeding in the 
attempt on the chiefs life, was searching the house 
for Guyon, to get from him a second supply of the 
deadly powder which he carried in the old green 
leather wallet. 


198 THE CONIACKERS 

She looked everywhere, calling, softly: 

“Jim ! Jim!” 

But Jim Guyon, true to his principle of “ stand¬ 
ing from under” the minute his “ play” was made, 
had long since left the house, and taken refuge in 
his favorite haunt, the strip of woods. 

Reluctant to let so favorable an opportunity for 
murder pass by, Gerty opened the back door noise¬ 
lessly, and, running swiftly through the darkness 
across the lot to the picket fence which bordered 
the woods, she again called: 

“Jim ! Jim!” 

But in vain! Either Guyon was beyond the 
sound of her voice, or he deliberately made up his 
mind that, if there was trouble on hand, he neither 
wished to be mixed up with it, or even to know 
anything about it. 

Finding her efforts to attract his attention use¬ 
less, Gertie returned to the tavern as swiftly as she 
had come, reflecting that, notwithstanding this 
failure, the original plan still held good. 

After an absence of ten minutes she entered the 
room with two glasses and a brandy bottle, quite 
out of breath, and flushed with the exercise. 

“What kep’you, Gertie? ” asked the old man, 
who, after swallowing some brandy, had recovered 
his nerve. 

“ I don’t know where the nation you hid the stuff 
away,” she returned, “ so I had to go down cellar 
and get a fresh bottle. Then I had to hunt for the 
corkscrew.” 



READY TO SPRING 


199 


The excuse was a good one, and the health was 
at last drunk with appropriate honors. 

There was some one carried to bed insensible 
that night, after all, but it was not Chief Bell. 
Poor Maud’s appetite for brandy, and the seduc¬ 
tions of the really excellent brand of liquor within 
her reach, were too much for her, combined with 
what she had taken before, and, at about one 
o’clock, in attempting a gaudy exposition of the 
peculiar beauties of the can-can, she tumbled in a 
heap, and was dragged from the field of battle by 
her lover, assisted by Driggs and the good-natured 
“ Mr. McWilliams. ” 


CHAPTER XIV. 

READY TO SPRING. 

Early on Monday morning, in spite of the late 
hour at which he had gone to bed, Driggs started 
for Cincinnati, promising to be back by one 
o’clock. 

After breakfast the chief said to Gerty: 

“ I’m going to give the old man a surprise when 
he comes back. ” 

“ What are you going to do? ” asked Gerty. 

“ I’m going down town to get him the handsom¬ 
est gold-headed cane in Dayton for a birthday 
present,” answered Bell, who wanted some good 
excuse for leaving the house. 

“ It will tickle Driggs most to death,” said Gerty, 
feeling very guilty, thinking of the hideous crime 



200 


THE CONIACKERS 


which only an accident had prevented the night be¬ 
fore. She was not feeling very comfortable on 
Guyon’s account, for, when Nelse had displayed 
the private signal, by pinning a newspaper to the 
sash of one of the windows, Guyon had not come 
to the driving shed, and a search in the strip of 
bush revealed the fact that he had left the place 
without warning. The coniackers did not know 
what to make of this move, but refrained from 
saying anything to “ McWilliams” about it. 

When Chief Bell arrived in Dayton via the elec¬ 
tric railway, he went at once to the main office of 
the Western Union and sent dispatches to Special 
Treasury Officers Wm. Shaw, Wm. McManus, 
John Sweeney, Byron K. O’Dwyer, Wm. Hall, 
and Thomas Caster, instructing them to come at 
once to Dayton, and telling them where to wait 
until they heard from him. 

He then had an interview with the local manager, 
explaining who he was, and that he was on impor¬ 
tant business. 

" What can I do for you, Mr. Bell ? ” asked the 
manager. 

“ Give instructions that any order I give to delay 
or suppress a message shall be honored, as that may 
be absolutely necessary in the interests of justice.” 

“ I can hardly accommodate you that far,” 
answered the manager, “ because it may render the 
company liable to heavy damages. My duty to 
the company-” 

" Is to protect it, in common with the rest of the 
public, from being victimized by the floating of 



READY TO SPRING 


201 


half a million of spurious currency of such a char¬ 
acter that it passes the bankers without suspicion,” 
cried the chief, interrupting him. 

“ Wh-e-e-w ! ” and the manager gave a long 
whistle. “ If that’s the case, it is different. I’ll 
write you an order at once for any of our branch 
offices, and instruct my people here as well. ” 

Armed with this important paper, and, after 
thanking the manager, Bell went to a jeweler’s 
establishment and bought a gold-headed Malacca 
cane, on which he ordered engraved the inscription: 
“ To Nelse, from Andy, on his eightieth birthday, ” 
saying he would call for it in an hour. 

During the time he had to wait for the cane, he 
looked for and found officer Abbott, whom he told 
to take the next train for Cincinnati, and watch 182 
John street for a telegram, and, at all hazards, to 
follow the messenger up, should it come, until he 
found the man to whom it was delivered. The 
chief had been “ fly ” enough to overhear Gerty 
and Nelse talking about Guyon’s sudden disappear¬ 
ance, just before the old man drove away to catch 
the early train. 

After calling at the jeweler’s for the cane, and 
buying a basket of delicious assorted fruit, he 
returned to the tavern, arriving at just one o’clock. 
He had only time to show the cane to Gerty when 
the old man put in an appearance, and, as Gerty had 
predicted, he was delighted as a child with the gifts. 

“ I used to be a sort o’ lairy about you, Mac,” he 
said ; “ but I’m danged if you haven’t turned out 
the squarest man I ever struck.” 


202 


THE CONIACKERS 


And yet the old scoundrel was ready and willing 
to murder the “ square man ” the moment he found 
an opportunity. 

The chief blushed at the compliment, as he 
thought how little Nelse Driggs suspected how 
really square he was, and then the whole party 
adjourned to the dining-room for dinner, in which 
meal they were joined by Maud, who had only got 
out of bed a few minutes before. 

“ Oh Lord! How rocky I feel,” said that young 
person. Her hair was uncurled, her face was 
untouched by those beautifiers so much in favor 
among ladies of her profession, and her eyes were 
dull and dead-fishy in expression. 

Altogether she looked like a mere wreck of the 
debonnaire and dashing “ fairy ” of the night before. 

“ Harry ” had left early in the morning to take 
his position behind a dry-goods counter, with a pain 
in his head as big as all out-doors. 

After a confab on Tuesday morning the chief 
accompanied Driggs to Dayton, where the old man 
wrote and sent the following telegram to Guyon: 

“ Bring up all your old clothes.” 

They left the office, but before doing so, the 
chief adroitly “ forgot ” a small parcel which he 
left on the counter. They had walked about three 
blocks when Bell said, suddenly: “ Confound it! 
I’ve left my parcel at the telegraph office. ” 

“ Then, we’d better go back and get it,” said 
Driggs ; “ was it anything particular? ” 

“ No; only a couple of neckties, but I don’t want 
to lose them. I’ll tell you — you just step into 


READY TO SPRING 


203 


Schmidt’s saloon, and wait for me a minute or two. 
There is no use in you walking your old legs off.” 

“All right,” said Driggs; “hurry up, and we’ll 
take somethin’ when you get back.” 

Hurrying to the branch telegraph office, Bell 
asked the operator: 

“ Have you sent my friend’s message yet? ” 

“ I’m just sending it now.” 

“ Then, give me the copy. I want to add some 
instructions.” 

The operator handed him the message, and on 
“it he wrote: 

“ To the Main Office: 

“ Do not send this message to Cincinnati until 
six o’clock to-night. 

“ John S. Bell.” 

“ I can’t send that,” said the operator, glancing 
at it. 

“ Oh, yes, you can, and will too,” replied the 
chief, as he pulled out the manager’s order and 
showed it. 

“ That’s all right, sir. I’ll attend to it,” said the 
operator, immediately recognizing the handwriting. 

Taking a blank, the chief wrote a cipher mes¬ 
sage to detective Abbott, telling him that the 
other message would arrive at six o’clock, not to 
fail in tracing it, and then to stick to his man. 
This was sent “ rush.” “I think you had better 
send that first message ‘repeat,’” said Bell, an idea 
striking him, and then he added a few words to the 


204 


THE CONIACKERS 


cipher message, which the operator at once put on 
the wire. 

With his little parcel in his hand, the chief 
rushed back to rejoin Driggs at Schmidt’s beer 
hall, and found the old man very impatient. 

“What kep’ you?” he asked, with a shade of 
the old suspicion in his voice. 

“ One of the kids had pinched my neckties,” was 
the ready answer, “ and I had to kick up a row 
before he produced.” 

We must now follow the chief’s cipher to Cin¬ 
cinnati. As soon as Abbott got the message, he 
began to think of a plan for following it. He was 
by no means dull, but this was a case in which no 
mistake could be allowed. The result of his 
deliberations was that he went straight to the 
manager of the telegraph company at Cincinnati, 
and, on being asked his business, made the follow¬ 
ing brilliant “ play:” 

“ I am United States Detective Abbott,” he 
said, exhibiting his star, “ and we have a most 
important case on hand.” 

The manager was interested at once: 

“ Well,” he said, “ and how can the Western 
Union help you? ” 

“ Very simply,” continued the officer. “ I have 
just received this cipher dispatch telling me that 
a message—“ Bring up all your old clothes”—will 
come over your wires at six o’clock to-night. That 
message must be followed to the man it is intended 
for. ” 

“ Who will it be addressed to ? ” 


READY TO SPRING 


205 


“J. Dusenberry, 182 John street.” 

“Then, why not shadow 182 John street?” 
asked the manager. 

“ Because these folks are too * flip * to be caught 
that way. The message will be taken by one and 
passed to another through perhaps six or seven 
hands.” 

“ Do you know Dusenberry.” 

“No.” 

“ Then, how could you tell whether he received 
it or not ?” 

“ I have a minute description of him, and would 
know him instantly. Now, what I want you to do 
is this. Let me take that message when it comes 
in. I don’t suppose I could get into a * kid’s ’ uni¬ 
form, but you can find a cap I can wear, with the 
badge on it, maybe.” 

“ I see. You want to be a telegraph boy.” 

“ Exactly. ” 

“ Then, if this exact message comes for this man 
Dusenberry, I’ll risk trusting you once, and give 
you a janitor’s uniform into the bargain.” 

“ Thanks,” said the detective; “ I’ll be here sharp 
at six.” 

The message arrived as expected, and, fitted out 
in the uniform of a telegraph messenger, Abbott 
started for 182 John street. 

His ring at the bell was answered by a short, 
stout man. 

" Telegram for Mr. Dusenberry,” said the sham 
messenger, glancing at the envelope. 

“ All right,” said the man; “ give it to me.” 



206 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ Are you Mr. Dusenberry? ” asked the messen¬ 
ger. 

“ No; but I’ll sign for it.” 

“ This is a special, repeated message, and can’t 
be delivered to any one but the party it is addressed 
to,” was the bold and unblushing reply. 

“ Well, Dusenberry ain’t in,” said the man. 

“ Then, tell me where to find him. My orders 
are to deliver the message, which is marked ‘ rush. ’ ” 

“ I don’t know where he is, but maybe they can 
tell you at Molly Brown’s. ” 

“ Where is that? ” 

“ Corner of Plum and Longworth.” 

“ All right,” and the “ special repeated ” messen¬ 
ger was going down the steps, two at a time. 

At Mary’s the “ housekeeper ” wanted to take 
charge of the message, but with the same result, 
and the messenger was directed to a saloon “ over 
the Rhine. ” Here he found Guyon, who had been 
drinking. The officer knew him the moment he set 
eyes on him, and, going up to him, said: “ Mr. 
Dusenberry? ” 

“ That’s me.” 

" Telegraphic message for you.” 

Guyon signed the book, tore open the dispatch, 
glanced at its contents, and then said: 

“ Seems to me you’re a pretty old kid. ” 

“ Yes,” laughed Abbott; “ I’m a special messenger 
for hunting up parties that have repeated messages 
sent to them. The company gets paid extra rates 
for them, and takes a good deal of trouble to find 
the addresses. ” 


READY TO SPRING 


20 7 


He then detailed the chase he had gone through, 
and Guyon said: 

That special business must be a new scheme.” 

Oh, no; they’ve been doing it for a couple of 
years.” 

“ Well, I’m glad you found me, any way. Let’s 
have a drink.” 

After swallowing the fluid, Guyon handed the 
officer fifty cents, and said: 

“ That’s your car fare. Which way are you goin’?” 

“ Back to the office.” 

“ Well, come on; I’m goin’ that way myself.” 

The detective rode back to town with the noto¬ 
rious Jim Guyon, and, notwithstanding his great in¬ 
clination, did not attempt to pump him, for fear of 
arousing suspicion. 

All night long he watched the house at 182 John 
street, until he was relieved at four o’clock in the 
morning by Detective Hardy, and then he went to 
the telegraph office, resumed his own clothes, went 
to his hotel, got breakfast, and slept. 

At twelve o’clock he relieved Hardy, who said 
Guyon had not left the house. Hardy then went 
to the hotel for dinner, and at about one o’clock 
Guyon, carrying a round parcel about the size of a 
two-quart fruit can, came out of the house, was 
shadowed to the depot, and thence on the train to 
Dayton. 

To return to the chief and his friends the 
coniackers. 

Making some excuse on Tuesday night, Chief 
Bell went to town, called his assistants around him, 


208 


THE CONIACKERS 


and, explaining the situation, asked for any sug¬ 
gestions that might present themselves. 

Provided that his own plans did not miscarry, 
the brilliant assembly of Uncle Sam’s Boys decided 
that the evidence would be full and complete, and 
the conviction of the counterfeiters a foregone con¬ 
clusion. 

Feeling confirmed in his own judgment by the 
unanimous approval of his staff, the chief returned 
to the road house to await the final drop of the 
flag. 

On Wednesday afternoon he was in the bar with 
old man Driggs, talking about " Dusenberry,” when 
who should walk past the window, with an umbrella 
hoisted, but Guyon himself. 

The sky was cloudy, but not a drop of rain had 
fallen, so it was evident that the coniacker was 
using the umbrella to hide his face. 

As he entered, the chief greeted him by saying: 

“ Hello, Dusenberry, what’s the matter ? Is it 
raining? or are you afraid of getting sunburnt ? ” 

“ It ain’t raining yet, but it will,” said Guyon, 
with a significant glance at Driggs. “ It’s goin’ to 
more than pour for some people. There was a 
fresh young feller,” he continued, laying his round 
parcel on the counter, “ that tried to run over me 
on the road, and I came pretty near shooting him. ” 

As he said this, he laid a big revolver on top of 
the parcel. * 

The “ fresh young feller ” he alluded to was 
officer Abbott, who, having lost his man at the 
depot, had hired a horse and rig and followed him 


READY TO SPRING 


209 


out to the road house. Not wishing to be seen by 
Guyon, for fear of being recognized as the telegraph 
messenger, he had driven past at a lively clip, rais¬ 
ing as much dust as possible. 

Not knowing anything about these facts, the 
chief supposed this move was made for the purpose 
of showing that Guyon was armed, so, drawing the 
revolver from his pocket, he said : 

“ Here Nelse—here’s the gun I borrowed from 
you. I reckon I won’t need it any more till this 
thing is over.” 

“ Where’s Gerty,” asked Guyon. 

“ Up in the parlor,” replied Driggs. 

“ All right, I’ll go up and see her.” So saying, 
he picked up his parcel and revolver, and went up¬ 
stairs rapidly, as if he didn’t want to run the risk 
of being seen by anybody. 

“ Has he got the stuff?” asked the chief, as Guyon 
left the room. 

“ Yes,” replied Driggs. 

“ When do I get it?” 

“ To-morrow morning.” 

“ From you ? ” 

“ No ; from Gerty. You have always done 
business with her, and you will have to do this 
with her too.” 

“ That’s all right, but I don’t want this thing to 
come off in the barn, Nelse, for I’m not going to 
run any chances.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ I mean that I want my money’s worth for my 


The Coniackers 14 


210 


THE CONIACKERS 


money, that’s all. You are all right and as straight 
as a string, but, between you and me and the hitch¬ 
ing post, I’m not stuck on Dusenberry’s style. I 
wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, any 
more than I would that hang-dog Spaniard that 
comes around here.” 

u You don’t need to be scared,” replied Driggs ; 

they’re both straight people, and I know it. 
Anyway, the deal will come off right here in the 
bar-room as soon as we get a good chance, and 
you and Gerty and me will be the only ones 
about.” 

“ Where will Dusenberry be ? ” 

“ Up-stairs, out of the way entirely.” 

“ That’s satisfactory,” said the chief, who had 
found out what he was after, the whereabouts of 
Guyon during the deal. 

Bell then went to town, telling Driggs that he 
was going to get a little present for Gerty, and 
another for the baby, as he intended to leave for 
the East as soon as he got the stuff. Driggs 
smiled peculiarly at this, but said nothing. 

For the second time Chief Bell called his men 
around him, and told them of the arrival of Guyon 
with the counterfeits. The “ boys ” were unani¬ 
mously in favor of going out at once and making 
the raid, and declared that the chief had no right 
to imperil his life by going alone into this gang in 
the morning, with what the coniackers supposed 
was a large amount of money. 

“ I’m not at all afraid,” said Bell; “ I’ve carried 
the money for over a week now, and they knew I 



READY TO SPRING 


211 


had it, but there hasn’t been even a sign of treach¬ 
ery. ” 

“ That’s all right enough,” replied McWilliams, 
the “ clerk ” at the Hartford office, “ but you had 
Driggs’ gun, and they, of course, knew it. Now 
that you have quit carrying it, it is different.” 

“ No,” replied Bell; “ I’ll stand by my plans now, 
if it costs a leg. ” 

He then gave the men their instructions as to the 
positions they should occupy during the critical 
moment, and was about to return to the tavern for 
the night, when Hall said: 

“ There is no sense in running any more risks 
than you have to. Why can’t you send a message 
that you won’t be back to-night? ” 

After a deal of persuasion, this proposition was 
adopted, and then thechief, turningto Donello, said: 

“ You haven’t been out there for a week, Donello; 
what excuse can you give for stopping there to¬ 
night? ” 

“ Oh, I’ll make up a good one, don’t you fear. ” 

“ Then, you can easily find out whether my excuse 
for not going back to-night goes. I have it — I’ll 
write the note now.” 

Sitting down to the table, he wrote the following: 

“Friend Nelse — I don’t somehow feel safe 
about the person we are talking about this after¬ 
noon, so will stop here till morning. I will be on 
hand by seven o’clock, so as to have everything 
fixed up before there is any one around. 

“ Yours, Andrew McWilliams.” 


212 


THE CONIACKERS 


A messenger was dispatched with the note, and 
some hours later Donello went out to the tavern. 
He arrived there at about midnight, and found the 
place all locked up. 

He knocked for some time, and then the shutter 
of an upper window was thrown back, and Gerty, 
looking out, asked, softly: 

“ Who is there? ” 

“ It’s all right, Gerty. It’s the Spainard.” 

“For heaven’s sake! where have you been, 
Spaniard? ” 

“ To Pittsburg, and got into trouble.” 

“ How was that? Caught i shoving’? ” 

“No; locked up for gambling.” 

“ Oh — was that all ? How did you get out ? ” 

“ I’m under bonds now. But there’s a fellow 
there who wants some of the stuff.” 

“ Well, wait a minute.” 

Just at this interesting point the old man came 
to the window, apparently in a very bad temper, 
for Donello heard him using words to Gerty which 
cannot be found in Webster’s dictionary. He 
poked his head out, and said: 

“ Hello, Spaniard.” 

“ Hello!” 

“ I can’t let you in to-night. The biggest deal 
of my life comes off to-morrow, and I don’t want 
anybody around.” 

“ But I’ll get out early ”—began Donello. 

“ Oh go to h—, Spaniard, don’t bother me,” and 
with this, the amiable old gentleman closed the 
shutters with a bang, slammed down the window, 


THE TRAP IS SPRUNG 


213 


and went back to the arms of Morpheus — and 
Gerty. 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE TRAP IS SPRUNG. 

WHILE the chief was still conferring with his men, 
another conference was going on about two miles 
away from them. 

Driggs had just received Bell’s note, and, showing 
it to Guyon, said: 

“ He don’t seem to have any use for you, Jim.” 

“ He’s mighty right too, if he only knew it. 
There’s one thing sure.” 

“ What’s that? ” 

“ Nothing on earth could get him to stop here 
to-morrow night after this letter.” 

“ You can bet your sweet life on that,” put in 
Gerty. 

“ Well, we’ll have to take my plan after all,” said 
Driggs;” either hit him with an ax or let him go.” 

“ No, we won’t, ” replied Guyon; “we’ll give him 
a drink after the trade is concluded. Gerty can 
fix two fancy drinks, one for herself, and one for 
him. I’ll give her the powder mixed with sugar, 
and she can dump it into his glass, give it a stir, 
and that’ll fix it. ” 

“ But what will we do with him?” asked Gerty, 
who was willing enough to carry out the pro¬ 
gramme provided it were feasible. 

“ Carry him up-stairs to a bed-room, and find him 



214 


THE CONIACKERS 


in about three or four hours. Then call the doc¬ 
tors in, and that settles it.” 

In order that the whole situation may be under¬ 
stood, the following diagram of the premises is 
given: 



i — Driggs’ Tavern. 2— Barn. 3 and 4 — Cottages. 5 — Water closet 
6 — Summer-house. 7—Driving shed. 8— Bar-room where the deal was made. 
9 — Officer Sweeney. 10—Officer Hall, n — Officer Donello. 12 — Officer 
McManus. 13 — Officer Shaw. 14 — Jim Guyon. 

At length the long-looked-for morning broke. 

The red-faced sun followed his avant couriers of 
gray light, and, as he mounted into a cloudless sky, 
chief Bell looked at him out of his hotel window. 
He seemed to blink in a semi-humorous fashion at 
the great detective, and say: 

“ We are going to make it hot for some people 
to-day, old man, you and I. We are just going to 
more than roast them! ” 

The chief was already dressed, and had break¬ 
fasted; so had the rest of Uncle Sam’s Boys, who 
were already on their way in single file, and at long 





THE TRAP IS SPRUNG 


215 


intervals, to take the various posts assigned to 
them surrounding the Driggs tavern. By the time 
the chief arrived, Donello, McManus and Shaw were 
in the strip of woods behind Driggs’ buildings, 
while officers Hall and Sweeney were on Home- 
wood avenue, one on each side of the tavern, at a dis¬ 
tance of about two or three hundred yards. They 
were to wait until after the chief entered the tavern, 
and then gently close in until they occupied the 
positions marked 9 and 10 in the diagram. 

Presently the chief went down-stairs to the street, 
and strode up and down before the hotel, smoking 
a cigar, and keeping an eye on the road on both 
sides of him. He was engaged in watching for a 
“ shadow,” thinking it just possible that Guyon, or 
some of the gang unknown to him, might be watch¬ 
ing his movements. To satisfy himself on this 
point, he walked sharply around the corner, and, as 
hard as he could go, to an alley, into which he turned 
abruptly. After pausing a few seconds, Ke looked 
cautiously out, but there wasn’t a sign of anything 
suspicious. 

Sauntering carelessly back, he saw a hostler driv¬ 
ing an old wagon. 

“ Hello! ” he called. 

“ Hello yourself, and see how you loike it,” was 
the answer, in a rich Irish brogue. 

“ Which way are you going, friend? ” asked the 
chief. 

“ Faith, the priesht says I’m goin’ straight to the 
divil if I don’t mend me manners,” replied the 
Irishman. 


216 


THE CONIACKERS 


“ I haven’t a doubt of it; but I mean this morn¬ 
ing,” said the chief, laughing. 

“Out on Homewood avenue, beyant,”said Paddy. 

“ Will you give me a lift? ” 

“ I will that.” 

So without more ado the chief climbed up beside 
the Irishman, who was smoking a clay pipe strong 
enough to “ down ” a tannery. 

As they drove along the jolly hostler hummed 
over a song which nearly put the chief in a fit. 
The melody was one of those quaint minor oddi¬ 
ties which do not grow anywhere outside of Ire¬ 
land, but the words set to it were evidently the 
product of Irish-American genius. 

As the Irishman hummed, they turned into 
Homeward avenue, and the chief saw that two 
men in a buggy were pretty close behind them. 

“ Sing out loud, Paddy, and I’ll give you a quar¬ 
ter. We’re almost in the country here, and it 
doesn’t make any difference if you do shout. ” 

The two men were right behind them now, and 
could almost hear what was said. 

“ Och, sure, an’ I’m no singer,” answered Paddy; 
“ I’m gettin too ould to sing.” 

“ Go on — here’s the quarter ; now sing me the 
whole of that song.” 

The men in the buggy were evidently interested, 
for they drew alongside the wagon, and regulated 
their pace by that of the Irishman’s old horse. 

“ Kape your quarther, sir,” he said; “ I’ll sing it 
for nothin’ if you’ll give me a dhrink. The dusht 
feels moighty dhry this mornin’.” 


THE TRAP IS SPRUNG 


217 

“ All right,” said the chief, and the Irishman 
drew up to a saloon. 

The men in the buggy seemed to be thirsty too, 
so they pulled up and entered the saloon after 
them. 

“ Won’t you gentlemen join my Irish friend and 
me? ” asked the chief. 

“ Yes — they didn’t mind; ” so four beers were 
soon traveling the way of all-beers. “What’s 
that song you’re trying to get him to sing? ” asked 
one of the strangers. 

“ Well,” answered the chief, “ it’s one of the 
blamedest funny things you ever heard. Wait till 
we start, and you’ll say so too.” 

When they started again, the Irishman lifted his 
quaint baritone voice, and sang the following ditty, 
with an audience composed of three highly appre¬ 
ciative people : 

“ Oh, if youse will listen, I’ll sing youse a song; 

It’s about thim hard toimes, and it won’t take me long. 

Wid my legs and my arms strapped down to the floor, 

And my hands tied behind me, what could I do more 
In thim hard, hard toimes ? 

“Now here’s to the docther, the man of great skill: 

[The disaise or the patient he surely will kill. ] 

Oh, he calls oncet a week, and gets paid every day, 

For he knows mighty well that the county will pay 
In thim hard, hard toimes. 

“Now here’s to the constable, whom I despise: 

Sure, he’ll come to your house wid a pack of blamed lies, 

And he’ll seize all your property, which he will sell, 

And get dhrunk on the proceeds; oh burn him in—well, 

It is hard, hard times. 


218 


THE GONIACKERS 


“Now here’s to conclude, and to finish my song; 

And here’s to New York, ’tis the place I belong: 

Oh for fightin’ and dhrinkin’ it niver will fail, 

And I don’t care a — tuppence how long I’m in jail 
In them hard, hard toimes.” 

A roar of laughter greeted this poetic effusion, 
and then the men in the buggy whipped up, said 
“ So long,” and soon vanished in a cloud of dust. 

As they reached the road house, old man Driggs 
came out, and the men pulled up. 

“ Well? ” inquired Driggs. 

“ It’s all right,” said one of them; “ he’s coming. 
An old Irishman has picked him up on his wagon, 
and they’ll be here directly. We’ve watched him 
ever since he first came out of the hotel at live 
o’clock this morning, and he hasn’t spoken to a soul, 
except this old fellow.” 

“ All right,” said Nelse; “ that’s good.” With¬ 
out another word, the men drove on at a rapid 
pace. 

A few minutes after they had gone, the old 
wagon drew up to the door, and Bell dismounted, 
followed by the old Irishman. 

“ Come in, Paddy,” said the chief, “ and wash the 
dust out of your lungs.” 

" Faith, I will, sir, for I’m as dhry as a bone,” 
returned Paddy, unhitching the bearing rein, so that 
his horse might drink at the trough. 

Bell entered the house first, and Driggs said: 

“ Hello, Mac! glad to see you. Who’s the 
party? ” 

“ He’s a funny devil who gave me a lift on the 
road. He can sing the funniest song you ever 


THE TRAP IS SPRUNG 


219 


heard. Two strangers in a buggy happened along 
while he was singing it for me, and they nearly fell 
off the seat.” 

“ That’s all right,” said Driggs, pre-occupiedly. 
“ Gerty has that all ready for you; so step into the 
sitting-room and get it. We’ll hear the song after¬ 
ward. ” 

Chief Bell did as he was directed, after telling the 
Irishman to wait for him a minute. 

“ Faith I will, or tin of thim,” replied Paddy. 

Chief Bell had not long to wait. Gerty came 
into the room, where the baby was playing about 
the floor, with a two-quart fruit tin in her hand. 

“ Howdy, Mac?” she said, shaking hands; “ are 
you fixed? ” 

“ Rather,” said the chief, laying the big roll of 
dollar bills with the hundred dollar wrapper on the 
table; “ where’s the stuff? ” 

“ Here in the tin,” she replied, her eyes dancing 
as she feasted them on the money. Then, taking 
a can-opener, she quickly removed the lid and 
showed to the astonished chief that it was tightly 
packed with the rolls of the counterfeit money. 

“ Do you want to count? ” she asked. 

“ I guess not,” he replied, at the same time 
plunging his hand into his hip pocket and drawing 
his revolver. 

“ What’s that for? ” gasped Gerty, in terror. 

“ Bang! ” was the answer, a shot fired in the air 
as a signal to the officers outside that the action had 
commenced. 

Gerty screamed, and the baby rolled over and 


220 


THE CONIACKERS 


howled, but there was a grasp at her hands, a 
“ click,” and for the second time in her life a pair of 
plain but substantially made steel bracelets adorned 
the delicate wrists of Gerty Stadtfeldt Driggs. 

When the “ bang ” of the pistol resounded 
through the bar, old man Driggs, who was stand¬ 
ing behind the counter, made a desperate rush for 
the door. The Irishman was contentedly leaning 
against the jamb, smoking his pipe, but, as Driggs 
attempted to dash past him, the pipe fell from his 
lips, giving up its malodorous ghost on the 
threshold. In an instant the crafty old coniacker 
found himself clutched in an iron grasp, and, before 
he could realize what had happened, his wrists 
were resting securely in the embrace of a pair of 
Uncle Sam’s quick-action, self-locking “ darlings.” 

“ Hold on, Nelson,” said Paddy, or, to give the 
gentleman the benefit of a name of which he has 
no reason in the world to be ashamed, Byron K. 
O’Dwyer; “ I think Mr. McWilliams wants to talk 
to you, so don’t hurry away.” 

“ Trapped! ” screamed the old man, “ both of us 
trapped! I knew it when those two glasses broke! 
Oh, G-d- McWilliams! ” 

Outside the house an exciting scene was in prog¬ 
ress. 

As arranged, the moment the shot was heard, the 
detectives began to close in on the tavern, the idea 
being, that Guyon was surely in the house. But in 
this conjecture they had miscalculated, for Mr. J. 
Guyon was altogether too much averse to doing 
time to run any needless chances of being captured. 
He was, therefore, not in the house. He was in 
the barn, contentedly smoking his pipe when he 
heard the report, and knew instantly what it meant. 

Looking cautiously through a knot-hole which he 
had prepared for the purpose of watching the 
avenue, he saw the “ book agent,” Hall, whom he 



THE TRAP IS SPRUNG 221 

at once recognized. For an instant he.debated 
whether he should chance the detectives going into 
the house to look for him or not, but his reason 
told him that this whole arrangement was a“ put- 
up job, and that probably a dozen detectives sur¬ 
rounded the premises. 

There was only one course — to fight his way 
through the cordon of officers, and escape, as he had 
done before, by sheer nerve and audacity. 

Waiting, like a hunted rat, for a few minutes to 
elapse before he made the dash for liberty, and so 
throw the hunters off their guard, he succeeded in 
slipping out of the barn unseen. 

It was not until he was thirty feet away from it 
that Billy Hall’s sharp eyes caught sight of him. 

Billy gave a yell like that of a wild Indian, and, 
firing as he ran, darted after the fleeing coniacker, 
who, still smoking his pipe, ran like a deer for the 
picket fence. 

Sweeney, hearing Billy’s yell, cleared the little 
picket fence at abound, and, jumping into the gar¬ 
den, dashed around the tavern. 

As he reached the corner, he got his first glimpse 
of the long-legged., raw-boned Guyon legging it 
like mad for the picket fence next to the woods. 

As lightly as an Irish steeplechaser, Guyon rose at 
the fence and went over without touching. In an 
instant Billy, who was by this time close upon him, 
opened fire again, and two big bullets went crash¬ 
ing after the fugitive. 

Still smoking his pipe, Guyon turned coolly, and, 
resting his revolver on his left arm, took steady 
aim and fired; but, fortunately, the bullet did no 
harm, though it whistled uncomfortably close to 
the brave young detective’s head. 

Sweeney next began blazing away, but had to 
cease when Billy tumbled head over heels over the 
picket fence in his eagerness to get at Guyon. 


222 


THE CONIACKERS 


Meanwhile Donello, Shaw and McManus had 
heard the firing and closed in on the center of the 
wood. 

Guyon, who, like a Sioux, was dodging from 
tree to tree, taking advantage of every bit of cover 
that offered, saw Donello\before the latter saw him. 

Resting his revolver'against a tree, he took 
steady aim and fired. Donello yelled, and fell for¬ 
ward, and at that moment a bullet from Billy Hall, 
sent with his late father’s kind remembrances, 
plowed about ten inches of bark out of the tree 
against which Guyon was resting, on a level with 
the counterfeiter’s head. 

Guyon changed his position, and Donello, pick¬ 
ing himself up, rushed after him again. The lobe 
of “ the Spaniard’s ” left ear had been carried away 
by Guyon’s bullet. 

Boldly pursued by the detectives, who blazed 
away at him every time he showed himself, Guyon 
dodged from tree to tree, and bush to bush, still 
smoking his pipe, and reloading his revolver as he 
ran. He shot every time to kill, for the bullets 
invariably came at the correct elevation for the 
head, but, being luckily a little out of line, they 
passed by harmlessly on either side. 

At length the desperado reached the snake fence 
between the woods and the oat field. 

Without a moment’s hesitation he threw himself 
head first over it, just as Donello and Hall got clear 
of the woods. Hall raised his pistol hand and fired. 

Not to be outdone in this kind of politeness, 
Guyon again turned, deliberately rested his hand 
on the top rail of the fence, and fired point blank at 
Hall. 

The “ book agent ’’jumped aside as he saw the 
flash, and the bullet passed through the skirt of 
his coat. If he had stood still, it would have got 
him in the groin, and probably finished him. 


the trap is sprung 


223 


With this valedictory, Guyon disappeared among 
the oats. The other detectives came up as Hall 
and Donello were climbing the fence, and Donello 
shouted: 

“ He's in the oats! After him, boys! ” 

And after him they went, but he had disappeared 
as completely as if the earth had opened and swal¬ 
lowed him. 

For an hour they threshed over that oat field, 
and into the fence corners, but the great Jim Guyon 
was gone as neatly and mysteriously as he had got 
away from Captain Hall ten years before 

It’s no use, boys,” said Billy Hall; “ we won't 
get him unless he was hit by one of the shots. He 
fooled a better man than any one of us years ago.” 

“ I think I got him once,” said Sweeney; “ for, 
just after I fired, he staggered forward a few steps 
before he could brace up.” 

Very much disgusted at this escape, the party 
returned to the tavern. 

The chief was of course disappointed at not get¬ 
ting Guyon, but instituted a vigorous search for the 
plates and press, which he suspected might be in 
the neighborhood. 

In this also] he was unsuccessful, for cunning 
Mr. Guyon had taken good care to get the entire 
plant to a place of safety for fear a raid should be 
made. 

In fact, the printing had all been done in Cincin¬ 
nati, only the finishing process being completed in 
the woods. But two days before the deal was 
made, the press, plates, ink and paper had been 
sent some hundreds of miles away from the suburbs 
of the Queen City. 

Old man Driggs and Gerty were forthwith re¬ 
moved to Dayton jail, the old man depressed and 
silent, Gerty bitter as gall, and venomously cursing 
“ McWilliams ” and his tribe, even unto the third 


224 


THE CONIACKERS 




and fourth generation. In fact she expressed her 
sorrow that the plot to murder him had miscarried, 
and said that this was what she most regretted in 
the whole affair. 

When the prisoners were searched, nothing of 
importance was found on the old man; but Donello, 
knowing by experience where to look, succeeded 
in stripping $300 in counterfeit money from Gerty’s 
shapely limbs, around which the notes were as 
neatly wrapped as on the day on which she had 
trifled with “ the Spaniard’s ” young affections. 

Mary Brown did not go to New York after all, 
and her visit to Mrs. “ Red ” Leary is indefinitely 
postponed. On the evening of the capture, officer 
Hall called on her and gave her a pressing invita¬ 
tion to visit her friend McWilliams, alias Chief of 
United States Detectives John S. Bell. 

Mary objected a little at first, but was finally 
induced to accompany the “ kid,” and she is now 
in doubt whether it will be five or six summers 
before she swings around the circle at Coney 
Island. Anyway, in a case like that, what par¬ 
ticular difference does a year or so make? 


Finis. 










* 




/ 

; * 











t 












A TREMENDOUS HIT. 


The Wonder of the Nineteenth Century. 


IT SELLS AT SIGHT. 





500,000 ALREADY SOLD. 

Tie World’s Favorite. Write for Terms. 

CHICAGO: LAIRD & LEE 



















































































* 














































































